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Authors: Cathy McAllister

Tags: #Romance, #Victorian, #England, #Historical, #Fiction

The Untamable Rogue (6 page)

BOOK: The Untamable Rogue
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Chapter 7

J
elana was kneeling
at her husband’s feet, pulling off his leather boots. She was measuring him with her eyes, taking in every detail: the ruffled hair, the dark rings under his eyes and the frown on his forehead. He seemed to be tired and aged. The leader, who was otherwise always full of energy, had collapsed into his favourite chair, his legs on a stool and a cup of brandy in his hand.

“What a horrible day!” he complained. “I knew at his birth that he would cause nothing but trouble. So now I have had to ban my own flesh and blood.”

He sighed deeply, drumming with his fingers on the arm of the chair whilst he put the glass to his mouth with the other hand, emptying it in one go.

“You did the right thing. – Ivo understood that,” said Jelana. She got up to fill Santino’s glass and poured herself a brandy, too.

Santino raised his head. “He’s been here?”

Jelana nodded and put a hand soothingly on her husband’s shoulder.

“Yes, he was here to say goodbye and – to ask forgiveness.”

“Why does he only ever go to his mother and never to me?” roared Santino, clearly insulted.

“Because he’s just as stubborn as his father. You are so alike, and unless I’m very much mistaken, you also took pleasure in another man’s woman in your youth!”

Santino snorted  and sat up straight in his chair.

“So does the lad necessarily have to copy all the sins of his father?” he ranted. “At his age I was already married to you. He should finally find himself a woman of his own instead of poaching on other peoples’ territories!”

Jelana smiled knowingly and stroked Santino’s arm.

“He will marry at some point. The right woman is already here – they just have to both accept first that they belong together.”

Santino looked at his wife in amazement. Even after many years of marriage he still could not get used to the fact that his wife always knew more than he did.

“How do you know that, woman?” doubt could be heard in his voice.

“I may not be as strong as my mother, but I, too, have powers, as you know!”

Oh, yes! And how he knew it! He uttered a disgruntled grumble and washed down his irritation with brandy.

Jelana, likewise, took a large gulp of the strong brandy and sat down on the stool opposite her husband.

“You speak in riddles, just like your mother. Did
she
tell you that Ivo will find a woman?”

“I know it myself! Moreover I have eyes in my head. You seem to be struck by blindness.”

Santino grasped Jelana’s wrist roughly.

“Ow!”

“Don’t mock me, woman!” he threatened sinisterly.

“I will make sure that your testicles shrivel if you don’t let go of me immediately!” hissed Jelana quietly, but in a tone equally threatening.

“You witch!” snorted Santino miserably, but he let her go. His testicles were sacred to him and he would rather not take the risk.

Jelana got up and passed her husband his tobacco and his pipe. She looked at him forgivingly and smiled.

“Here. Relax. I’m going to the river again. It’s warm and I’d like to freshen up a little.

Santino began to fill his pipe as Jelana left the caravan. A good pipe always helped to cool down his heated mood. It not only helped him to calm down again, but also to think more clearly.

*

Jelana ran almost without sound, as she had taken off her shoes. It was a dark night. The moon was hiding behind a dense cloud and hardly any stars could be seen, but it was still pleasantly warm. Most of the waggons were already dark – gentle candle light burned in only a few of them. It seemed that most people were already asleep. Only the guards were still sitting at the fire, but they did not notice the leader’s wife. Jelana ran in the direction of the river and then turned left. She knew where her son had set up his camp for the night. Slowly she approached the lonely waggon. It was still weakly lit – so Ivo was still awake. She had thought he would be. Ivo was not a man who went to sleep early. Quietly she knocked at his door and a little later her son opened it. The big Irish Wolfhound used this opportunity to dart out.

“Mama? Whatever are you doing here? You know that you’re not allowed to come here.”

“I just wanted to check up on you. Is everything OK with you? Do you need anything?” asked Jelana whilst she tried to look past him into the waggon.

“You mean you wanted to see if I was alone!” complained Ivo and folded his arms over his chest.

“And?” his mother asked cuttingly. “Are you alone?”

Ivo stepped aside a little so that his mother could look passed him into the waggon.

“See for yourself! Believe me, I’m absolutely fine and I don’t need any women in my domain. – And another thing, mother – finally get the obsession out of your head that I’m going to take myself a wife! I can do without a nagging woman making life hard for me. – And don’t start threatening me! I believe a lot of things, but definitely not that you have the power to make my testicles rot. I’m not father! You can’t intimidate me with such prattle!”

Jelana started. She opened her mouth, then closed it again. He had never spoken to her like that before. He seemed to be really very angry. She could see the veins pulsating in his neck. His face was a closed mask and his eyes looked cold and unforgiving. She had seen this look in him before, but never when addressing her.

“Go now, mother and leave me in peace,” he said, already a little more softly, as he saw the concern in his mother’s eyes – he loved his mother, even if he otherwise did not have much respect for women.

Jelana turned, hurt, and walked away.

Deep in thought her son watched her walk away. “Come back in, Ben!” he called to his dog.

Once the dog had gone into the waggon Ivo closed the door.

Chapter 8

I
was some
distance from Ivo’s waggon but still heard most of the conversation between Ivo and his mother. When Ivo had gone back into his waggon I sighed. Why ever was he so sinister? He was the exact opposite of his brother, being impolite, coarse and brutal. I wondered whether there was a reason for his behaviour or whether he was simply like this by nature. Some people were apparently born bad, but most became the people they were because of certain events. What could it have been that had made Ivo into this inconsiderate and wild man? He should not be of interest to me, and he was probably even very dangerous, and yet, filled with curiosity, I was creeping closer to his waggon.

Carefully I peeped through the little window, as the shutter was slightly open. Inside it was dimly-lit, with only a single candle barely lighting the waggon. Ivo was sitting on a stool, filling a pipe. His dog, Ben, was lying at his feet, chewing on a bone. Ivo’s upper body was naked and his dark skin shimmered, golden in the flickering light of the candle. I wondered what it must feel like to touch the skin on his pronounced muscles and also his dark chest hair that tapered down into a narrow strip. Shocked at my own thoughts I moved away from the window; in doing so I stepped on a twig. The snapping sound cut through the silence of the night like the shot of a pistol, and I cursed my clumsiness. Immediately the sound of a dog barking came from within the waggon, as well as the thud of footsteps. I froze, my heart beating wildly, then, just as I had decided to run away, the door opened and Ivo appeared in the doorway. The dog jumped down the steps and blocked my way. I felt as if I had been caught out in an unpleasant way.

“What are you doing here?” Ivo barked at me.

I blushed and looked down in embarrassment. My cheeks were burning and my legs threatened to give way beneath me. What a disgrace. I wished that I could be swallowed up by the earth beneath me. How had I ever managed to get myself into such a situation again?

“I … I was just passing, by chance, and then …,” I began, stuttering.

“By chance!” he said, his voice steeped in sarcasm, and I blushed even more.

“Well …,” I searched helplessly for a plausible explanation. Of course, I did not find one. His waggon was a long way from the camp, and it was night time. I had no business – no business whatsoever – to be here, and absolutely not at this hour. I could hardly tell him that curiosity had driven me here. I had followed his mother as she crept through the darkness of the camp. I had simply been curious as to where she was going at such a late hour. Part of me had already thought, of course, that she would be going to Ivo, and as I did not know where his waggon was, I seized the opportunity to perhaps find out.

Ivo slowly came down the steps towards me. His face was in the dark, which made him look even more menacing. I almost expected his eyes to shine in the dark, as with a beast of prey or a daemonic creature from hell. I suppressed the ridiculous urge to cross myself.

When he was standing right in front of me I tried to step away, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me with force towards him so that I collided with his muscle-hardened body. I was breathless from shock and the collision. My mouth opened to scream, but no sound came from my lips.

“Are you looking for a little adventure?” he murmured in a deep voice.

A shudder made my body tremble. I shook my head vigorously. What sort of a situation had I put myself into here? I was a long way from the camp. No one would come to my aid even if I screamed.

“In that case you shouldn’t come here. You can’t be thinking that I’m just going to let you go. No one snoops around in my private life without punishment. – You must get that.”

“Please,” I gasped, breathlessly, and tried to pull away from him. My heart was pounding madly. Panic rendered me speechless.

A hand was placed far too intimately on my bottom. I became hot and felt strangely weak. Something hard was pressing against my stomach. I had a vague idea of what this was about, and I stiffened. – I had to get out of this dangerous situation immediately, or it would end horribly.

Determined, I pushed my hands against his upper body to hold him away from me, but I had not counted on the sensual effect that was ignited at the touch of his naked skin. The contrast between the warm, silky skin and the wiry hair on his chest was bewildering, and I gasped for air. I could feel the movement of his muscles under my hands. I closed my eyes. In desperation I tried to take control of my feelings. I could not do it. I was far too inexperienced, and so unsettled by his proximity that I could barely think clearly.

“Did your mother not tell you that it’s dangerous to run after men?” he murmured into my ear. “You really have been very naughty and – foolish!”

“I didn’t … I … I hadn’t …” My brain could not form a single proper sentence. I was speechless with panic and fine beads of sweat appeared on my forehead.

“Shh! Shh! Shh!” he said. “Don’t you now try to talk yourself out of this. You want to know? – You want to know what it’s like to play with the beast?”

Before I could respond with anything he pressed his mouth against mine. His kiss was hard – punitive. Quite different from the way I had imagined kissing to be. Nothing about this man was gentle. I felt helpless and fragile. I had no strength left to defend myself and so I fell against him. A hand had moved onto my breasts and it slipped inside my dress. I convulsed as he twisted my nipple. The pain shot like lightening through my body and caused a tingling heat in my sex.

‘Oh God, what am I doing! Stop! No! No! That can’t be …’

He suddenly pushed me away from him; I staggered and fell to the ground. With tears in my eyes I stared at him. My heart felt as if it was about to stop beating and I felt sick. I could hear my blood pulsating through me. Confused, I tried to grasp what had happened. Why did he do that? First he kissed me, and then he pushed me away.

“Run!” he snarled, threateningly. “Run, if your virtue is important to you, otherwise you’ll lose it very soon.”

Shocked and shaking I gathered myself up and hurried away, covered in tears. Blindly I staggered through the night. My heart was beating as if it would burst and I found it hard to breath. Nevertheless I ran on without faltering. I felt humiliated and hurt. But what was worse was that I was completely ready to give myself over to him. His brutal embrace had released something inside my body that I did not understand. I felt horribly wretched.

Breathing heavily I sat down beneath a tree and leant against the trunk. I kept on trying to work out what had just happened. Why had I even gone to his waggon? What had driven me to do that? Was it really as he had said?  – Did I want to challenge the beast? I had gained an idea as to what that meant, and on the one hand it frightened me, but on the other hand it aroused me. With that in mind I put a finger to my lips. They felt swollen and were still burning a little from his rough stubble. I vigorously wiped my mouth with my hand, as if I could thus rub away his kiss. From now on I would stay away from this scoundrel. Decisively I stood up and hurried on.

BOOK: The Untamable Rogue
12.89Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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