Claudia Dain (43 page)

There was no safety in a lie, and she tired of this legend that kept her solitary. She would not live a lie again.

"He beat his way into me, if that is what you are asking," she said, looking at Ulrich as she said it. "The Frost has fallen, the legend of her broken."

"The legend of le Gel lives," Ulrich said, returning her look with hard purpose. "The bruises that she wears bear the marks of her battle against the passion of a man who failed in his pursuit of her. He beat her for his failure. That is all. She did not fall. She never shall."

"I will not tumble into deceit again," she said. "Would you push me to it, my lord? You, who knows as well as I the pain of living within the shadow of legend? I
did
fall to Nicholas. He
did
fight his hard way into me."

"A rare stand," Walter said into the hot and steady battle of their words. "A man who declares a wife untouched, and a woman who declares herself most defiled. What does Edward have to say?"

Both Ulrich and Juliane looked to Edward, their bodies stilled as they awaited his response.

"I will say what I know for truth and what cannot be disputed: Nicholas is dead," Edward answered.

"True," Walter said. "There is no turning from that. You know of Conor's death and by whose hand?" he asked Juliane.

"Aye, and 'twas well done. You see what Nicholas, by Conor's whim, has done to me," she said. "Why did you rob my lord and husband of St. Ives for it? 'Twas poorly done and shows little love for me."

"There is much you do not understand of matters between Conor and Philip," Walter said stiffly, "but what you certainly must concede is that I cannot endorse a killing between my sister's husband and my uncle. That way I will not follow, breaking all tradition within Stanora by the doing. All feuds must die."

"My lord," Ulrich said over Juliane's gathered breath, cutting her off before she could begin to scour her brother with her tongue, "I understand your reasoning and do not argue with it. I only add one thought: I am not Juliane's husband, by the very terms of the contract. There has been no consummation. And there will be none," he said for her ears, yet again.

By Saint Basilissa, he was stubborn. But she could match him in this, as in all else.

Yet his words struck some chord, some chime of clarity and resonance. What had he said? "By the very terms of the contract?"

"Brother," she said with a grinning foretaste of victory, Ulrich, knowing her so well, frowned to see her so. "My husband has said it. The contract terms have
not
been met. By my father's will, this marriage between us, though endorsed by God through his blessed priest and though the contracts be signed and sealed, this marriage is not binding until our union is consummated in the public eye."

"Aye?" Walter asked. Ulrich still frowned.

"Well, then, how could Ulrich have lost St. Ives by your word and will? He may have sworn fealty to you, yet his vows, by the very contract they rest upon, will not be in force until he takes possession of
me
. St. Ives will not become his until
I
am his. You could not take from him what was still resting in your hand."

Now even Walter frowned. Ulrich was past frowning; he looked ready to kill her for her cleverness. Edward, though, he smiled full enough and nodded his appreciation.

"This makes strange sense to me," Walter said.

"And why should it not?" she said. "I but repeat the terms of the contract. Did you think I would forget such a detail as a bedding before the eyes of many?"

"I will not bed you," Ulrich said. "We have agreed on this."

"I agreed to nothing," she said. "Not even the terms of the contract, yet I play within its bounds. Can you not match me?" she taunted, her smile sharp as a blade.

"You turn this into wagering?" he snarled. "After what we have shared, one to another?"

"Nay, she said, softening her smile, "no wager. A simple challenge, my lord. I
will
bed you, making the contract complete."

Ulrich surged toward her, his face a brand of anguish and anger. She held her ground. Of all men, this was the one she trusted. Never would he hurt her. By the saints, he was determined not even to bed her.

"Juliane," he said, his face hard above hers, his voice lowered, though she was certain Walter and Edward and even the stable grooms heard him most well. This would make fine telling by some fire some day. "In order for the contract to be fulfilled, you must be pierced before many eyes. I will not subject you to that. You have endured enough."

"I will endure worse if you leave me," she said. "Can you not see that? Do you see nothing beyond your need to protect me? I need no protection from you, Ulrich. I want none."

"But this public bedding," he said, dropping his gaze, shaking his head. "'Tis too much. I swore when I saw you, when I saw what Nicholas had done to you, I swore that I would take a higher path. I will not use you so. I will not take a woman for what I can gain. There is no honor in it, and too often my choices have been empty of honor."

"This was not your choice," she said, laying her hands upon his hair, feeling the shape of his scalp with her fingertips. "I do not hold you responsible for it. Let us only do this thing and all is behind us."

"I will not," he said. "'Tis not for me I say it, but for you. I do not think you know how bruising this will be. There must be no more bruises for Juliane."

"And so you leave me? Is that to be a mercy upon me?"

"I give you what mercy I can. I can do no more."

War, then. He would not see reason. He thought her too fragile, too frail to see it done. With one last act he could cure all, yet he turned from it, thinking to spare her. She was stronger than he knew. It was only that she could not and would not live without him. Well, if it be war between them, then she would win it.

"You can do no more," she repeated, releasing him, stepping away from his scent and his heat, preparing herself for battle. "Then stand fast, my lord. I shall do all. I shall take
you
and put my mark upon you."

"What say you?" Walter said.

"I said that I would take Ulrich, his body into mine, sealing all vows, all contracts, and all bargains."

"Lady," Ulrich snarled, "you will
not
."

"My lord," she said with a pleasant and determined smile, "I
will
."

"You cannot see this done. 'Tis not possible. I am unwilling. I will not succumb to you."

Juliane could not stop herself. She laughed.

"Oh, I think we both know that you will. I will have my way with you, my lord. Adjust yourself to it. Will you or nil you, you shall be mine."

It was then that Edward joined her in laughter.

Chapter 24

Walter, by a sharp look, kept everyone at bay. They walked alone through the bailey and the tower gate, up the broad steps, and into the wide and welcoming hall. Ulrich and Juliane walked side by side, with Walter just behind them. A fitting entrance for two combatants. Maud, Avice, Christine, Marguerite, and pale Lunete stood upon the gallery, their bodies pressed to the rail, watching. Wondering. Waiting.

"I will not do this," Ulrich said to her in an undertone.

"You must. It is in the terms of the contract. You signed it, sealing us both into this effort," she whispered. "Do not fear. I will not hurt you."

He growled like a wolf beyond the reach of fire, hidden in the dark, for the hall was dark now, lit only by the central fire which burned low on such a hot night as this. The torches had not yet been lit. All was shadow in twilight, his blue eyes burning like twin lights of cold flame in impotent anger.

She felt like laughing. This was a new game to her, and yet she knew that she would win it.

"You mock me," he breathed harshly. "Unwise, lady. You do not know what I may do. You have never battled in this game before. Have a care lest you be burned."

"Burned by you?" she said, raising her voice as they climbed the stair to the gallery, twisting in the dark as they wound upward into stone. "I welcome it. Do your worst, my lord. I shall not be burned." And then she stopped and Ulrich bumped against her back, his hands coming forward to rest upon her waist and hips, seeking balance and steeling her against a backward fall. "Unless it be the burning of lust," she said, loud enough for Walter at Ulrich's back to hear. "Did not Saint Paul say it best? ''Tis better to marry than to burn.' Let us burn together."

"Let us not burn at all," he said, pushing her from under his hands.

She laughed then, a long, low, seductive laugh meant to mock and entice.

"Would you have lies of me? Have not we two always and only burned together? Have you not always risen high for me? What may be done to cast you down? I tried, my lord; I tried most diligently to make you fall. Yet you did not. Think you that you can fall now, when I am so very set to make you rise, hot and hard and pulsing for the taste of me?"

"God above," he growled. "Cease!"

"That I will not do," she said with a smile as they left the stair. "Now, Brother, where shall this consummation occur? And who shall be our witnesses?"

"I, for one," Walter said. "I trust no eyes but my own in this battle of wills upon the bed furs. Would you name a witness of your own, Ulrich?"

"Aye, I name Edward."

"And I name Avice," she said.

"Avice?" Walter said. "She is too innocent for such things."

"She is to be wed within the month," Juliane answered. "Let her learn now what she will face."

"Only if she will agree to it," Walter said. "Her eyes are too young for such a thing."

"Yet not too young to marry?" Juliane said. "Brother, you must get your thinking ordered aright. Can she be too young to see and yet not too young to perform?"

"Your sharp tongue will earn you a slap from me, Juliane," Walter said as they entered her small chamber. "I would not add to your cuts, but when provoked—"

"You shall do nothing," Ulrich said, his words cast from him like heavy stone. "She is not for you to touch."

Nay, she was all for Ulrich's hand. And now he remembered it. This battle was going most exceedingly well.

Edward and Avice came together, their looks carefully guarded. When Edward agreed to act as witness, Avice quickly echoed her agreement, almost as if they were in a competition of sorts. Most strange.

Also strange was the prospect of seducing Ulrich with three pairs of eyes watching. There were three tall candles in the chamber, pushing all safe shadow to the corners and holding it there with a hot hand.

"It is as I said," Ulrich said to her, the other three in the chamber hearing him easily. "This cannot and should not be done."

"Am I not worth such effort?" she asked, trying to keep her eyes on only him, pushing the sound of breathing and the creak of shifted weight from her. Let there be only Ulrich. Let there be no other.

"I would do anything but shame you, and this is shame upon you, Juliane," he said. "I would cut out my heart and give it to you, but I will not do this. 'Twould be a wound from which there could be no healing."

"I do not want your heart," she said over a tender sigh from Avice. "I want your life, Ulrich. Nothing else will do. Nothing else will satisfy. Nothing but your life lived out in time with mine. Do not leave me, Ulrich. Take me and make me yours." And when he shook his head in slow refusal, she added, "Then I ask that you do not bump against my bruises when I take you and make you mine. I am very stiff and sore. Be gentle in your fight against me, I pray you."

He stared at her for a moment and then he grinned. He laughed. A great, rolling laugh that drove down all his defenses and made him easy in her company.

She was winning this battle most handily.

"You are managing me well, I think, lady. Too well. I had forgot, looking at your bruised eyes and swollen lip, that you play hard and play only to win."

"I use what weapons I can," she said with a grin. "You are an able adversary."

"I thank you," he said, bowing slightly.

"If you could manage to hurry," Walter said. "I have other things I must see done as lord of Stanora."