“Beautiful, my lady,” Joice said, tears in her eyes. “No man will be able to take his eyes from you.”
Liana hoped so. She hoped she was as physically appealing to her husband as he was to her.
She rode sidesaddle on a white horse to the church and she was so nervous she barely saw the crowds of people lining the sides of the road and yelling their wishes that she bear many children. Her eyes were straining ahead to see the man standing by the church door. Her palms were wet as she drew nearer to him. Would he take one look at her, see that she was the woman who hit him with a mud-soaked garment, and refuse to marry her?
When she was close enough to see him, she smiled with pride that he looked as good as she’d imagined in the green velvet tunic that she’d had made for him. The tunic barely reached the tops of his thighs and his powerful, muscular legs were tightly encased in dark knitted hose. On his head he wore a short-brimmed fur hat with a large ruby twinkling on the band.
She swelled so in pride at the look of him that her ribs ached against the steel bones in her corset. Then she held her breath as he stepped down from the church steps and started toward her. Was he going to lift her from her horse himself and not wait for her father, who rode ahead of her, to do it?
Her horse moved maddeningly slowly. Perhaps he could see she was the woman from the pond and he was pleased. Perhaps she had haunted his thoughts for the past three months as he had hers.
But Rogan did not come to her horse. In fact, as far as she saw, he did not so much as glance her way. Instead, he went to her father’s horse and caught the bridle. The entire procession halted as Liana watched Rogan talk earnestly to her father. Liana watched in puzzlement until Helen moved her horse forward to stand beside her stepdaughter.
“What is that red devil up to now?” Helen spat out. “Those two are wrong if they think we will wait while they talk of hawks.”
“Since he is to be my husband, I assume we must wait,” Liana said coolly. She’d had enough of Helen’s complaints about Rogan.
Helen kicked her horse’s ribs and went to stand on the far side of her husband. Liana could not hear what was being said over the noise of the crowd, but she could see Helen’s anger. Gilbert remained impassive and even leaned back in the saddle while Helen talked angrily to Rogan, but Rogan merely looked across at her with unseeing eyes.
Liana hoped he would never look at her like that. After a moment Rogan looked about him, as if seeing the crowd for the first time, and as an afterthought he looked at Liana sitting quietly on her horse. Liana held her breath as his cool eyes scanned her from toe to head. She did not see any recognition in his eyes and she was glad, because she didn’t want to risk his refusing to marry her. When his eyes rose to meet hers, Liana lowered her lashes, hoping to seem modest and obedient.
After a moment, she looked up to see Rogan returning to the church steps and Helen riding toward her.
“That man you plan to marry,” Helen said with a sneer, “was asking for twelve more knights’ fees. He was saying he would walk away now and leave you here if he didn’t get them.”
Liana’s eyes widened in alarm. “Did my father agree?”
Helen closed her eyes for a moment. “He agreed. Now, let’s get this over with.” She kicked her horse forward to ride behind Liana.
Gilbert helped his daughter from her horse, and she walked up the stairs to meet her husband. The ceremony was brief, the vows no different from what they had been for centuries. Liana kept her eyes lowered throughout, but when she vowed to be “meek and obedient in bed and at board,” the crowd cheered her. Twice she stole looks at Rogan, but he merely seemed impatient to be away—as she was, she thought with a smile.
When they were pronounced man and wife, again the crowd cheered and the bride and groom, their family and guests went inside to mass, for the wedding was of the state and therefore outside the church, but mass was of God. The priest blessed their marriage and began the mass.
Liana sat quietly beside her new husband and listened to the Latin incantations for what seemed to be hours. Rogan did not look at her, did not touch her. He yawned a few times, scratched a few times, and sprawled his long legs in the aisle. At one point she thought she heard a snore coming from him, but his brother punched him and Rogan sat up straighter on the hard bench.
After mass, the wedding group rode back to the castle while the peasants threw grains at them and shouted, “Plenty! Plenty!” For three days and nights every man, woman, and child would have all the food and drink they could hold.
Once over the drawbridge and into the inner courtyard, Liana sat on her horse and waited for her husband to lift her down. Instead, she watched as Rogan and his brother Severn dismounted and went to the wagons loaded and waiting along the stone wall.
“He cares more for your goods than for you,” Helen said as a groom helped Liana from her horse.
“You have had your say,” Liana snapped. “You do not know all there is. Perhaps he has reasons for his actions.”
“Yes, such as not being human,” Helen said. “There’s no use reminding you of what you’ve done. It’s too late now. Shall we go in and eat? It is my experience that men always come home when they’re hungry.”
But Helen was wrong, because neither Rogan nor his men came in to the feast Liana had spent weeks organizing. Instead, they stayed outside, going through the wagons that were packed with her dowry. She sat alone at her father’s right side, the groom’s place next to her empty. All around she could feel the tittering of the guests as they looked at her with sympathetic eyes. She kept her chin up and refused to let them see she was hurt. She told herself it was good that her husband was interested in his property. A man who was so concerned about his estates wasn’t likely to gamble them away.
After a couple of hours, when most people had finished eating, Rogan and his men came into the Hall. Liana smiled, for now, surely, he’d come to her and apologize and explain what had kept him. Instead, he stopped beside Gilbert’s chair, reached between Gilbert and Helen, and picked up a two-pound piece of roasted beef and began to gnaw on it.
“Three wagons are full of feather mattresses and dress goods. I want them filled with gold,” Rogan said, his mouth full.
Gilbert had had nothing to do with the packing of the wagons and so could not answer Rogan’s complaint. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
Helen had no such problem. “The mattresses are for my daughter’s comfort. I don’t imagine that place of yours has even the barest comforts.”
Rogan turned cold, hard eyes on her and Helen almost backed down. “When I want a woman’s opinion, I will ask for it.” He looked back at Gilbert. “I am having an accounting made now. You will regret it if you have cheated me.” He stepped away from the table, the meat eaten, and wiped his greasy hands on the beautiful velvet tunic Liana had had made for him. “You can keep your feathers.”
Helen was on her feet instantly as she confronted Rogan. He was much taller than she and overpoweringly large, but she held herself rigid before him. Her anger gave her courage. “Your own wife, the wife you have chosen to ignore, supervised the loading of those wagons and she has not cheated you. As for the household goods, either they go with her or she remains here in her father’s house. Choose now, Peregrine, or I’ll have the marriage annulled. No daughter of mine goes from my house naked.”
The entire room was silent. Only a dog snuffling in a corner could be heard and it, too, soon quietened. Guests, acrobats, singers, musicians, jesters all paused in what they were doing and looked at the tall, handsome man and the elegant woman confronting each other.
For a moment Rogan did not seem to know what to say. “The marriage has been performed.”
“And not consummated,” Helen flashed back at him. “It will be easy to have it annulled.”
The anger in Rogan’s eyes increased. “You do not threaten me, woman. The girl’s goods are mine and I will take what I want.” He took a step backward and
grabbed Liana’s arm, pulling her out of her chair. “If the girl’s virginity is a problem, I’ll take it now.”
This statement made the half-drunk crowd laugh, and their laughter increased as Rogan pulled Liana up the stairs and out of sight.
“My room…” Liana said nervously, not exactly sure of what was going on. She was aware only that at last she was going to be alone with this magnificent man.
Rogan flung open a door to a guest room that was being used by the Earl of Arundel and his wife. The countess’s maid was folding clothes. “Out,” Rogan commanded the girl, and she scurried to obey him.
“But my room is—” Liana began. This was not the way things were supposed to happen. She was to be undressed by her maids and to be put nude between pure clean sheets and he was to come to her and kiss her and caress her.
“This room is good enough,” he said, and pushed her back onto the bed, then grabbed her skirt hem and flung it over her head.
Liana fought her way out from under several heavy layers of cloth, then gasped as Rogan’s considerable weight covered her. The next moment she cried out in pain as he entered her. She was unprepared for such pain and she pushed away from him, but he didn’t seem to notice as he began to make quick, long strokes. Liana gritted her teeth to keep from crying and she clenched her fists against the pain.
Within minutes he was finished and he collapsed on her, limp and relaxed. It took Liana a moment to recover from the onslaught of pain, but when she opened her eyes she could see Rogan’s dark hair, could feel the softness of it against her cheek. His face was turned away from her, but his thick, clean hair covered her cheek and forehead. How heavy yet how light he felt. His broad shoulders covered her small body, yet his hips didn’t seem as wide as hers.
She lifted her hand and touched his hair, put her fingers into it, then her nose, and inhaled the fragrance of him.
Slowly, he turned to face her, his lids heavy with fatigue. “I slept for a moment,” he said softly.
She smiled at his closed eyes and stroked the hair at his temple. His lashes were thick, his nose finely cut, his skin dark and warm and as finely pored as a baby’s. His cheeks were stained dark with unshaven whiskers, but they didn’t take away from the relaxed softness of his mouth.
Her finger moved from his temple and down his cheek to his lips. When she touched his lower lip, his eyes sprang open and the greenness of them was startling. Now he will kiss me, she thought, and for a moment she held her breath as he looked at her.
“A blonde,” he murmured.
Liana smiled at him since her hair color seemed to please him. She put up her hand to pull off her headdress and all three feet of her hair cascaded out. “I wanted to save it for you,” she whispered. “I hoped you would like it.”
He picked up a strand of the fine, golden hair and curled it about his fingers. “It’s—”
He halted in mid-sentence and all softness left his face. Immediately he got off of her and stood, glaring down at her. “Cover yourself and go to that hellion of a stepmother of yours and tell her the marriage is consummated. Tell her there will be no annulment. And you can ready yourself, for we leave here tonight.”
Liana pushed her skirts down over her bare legs and sat up on the bed. “Tonight? But the marriage celebration goes on for two more days. Tomorrow I have planned dancing and—”
Rogan hastily straightened his clothes. “I have no time for dancing, and I have no time for back-talking wives. If this is how you plan to start, then you can stay here with your father and I will take the goods with me. My men and I leave in three hours’ time. Be there or not, it doesn’t matter to me.” He turned and left the room, closing the door loudly behind him.
Liana sat where she was, too stunned to move. He would leave her behind!
There was a soft knock on the door, then Joice entered. “My lady?” she said.
Liana looked up at her maid, all her puzzlement showing in her eyes. “He leaves here in three hours and he says I may go with him or not. He doesn’t care one way or the other.”
Joice sat down on the bed and took Liana’s hand. “He thinks he does not need a wife. All men think that. It is up to you to prove to him that he does need a wife by his side.”
Liana pulled away from her maid, and when she moved her legs, she felt pain. “He hurt me.”
“It’s always like that the first time.”
Liana stood and anger began to race through her. “I have never been treated like this before. He did not bother to even come to his own wedding feast. I had to sit there and endure the stares and smiles from the people. And this!” She glanced down at her skirt. “I may as well have been raped. I’ll let him know who he’s dealing with.” She had her hand on the door latch when Joice’s words stopped her.
“And he will look at you with hatred as he looked at Lady Helen.”
Liana turned back.
“You saw how he despised her,” Joice continued, and suddenly felt very powerful. Her young charge might be beautiful and rich, but she was listening to and obeying Joice. “Believe me, I know what men like Lord Rogan want. He will hate you just as he does her if you defy him.”
Liana rubbed the fingers of her right hand together. She could still feel his hair against her skin and she remembered that, for a moment, there had been softness in his eyes. She did not want to take that away. “What do I do?” she whispered.
“Obey him,” Joice said firmly. “Be ready in three hours. Lady Helen will no doubt protest your leaving, but stand with your husband against her. I have told you how men want loyalty from their wives.”
“Blind loyalty?” Liana asked. “Even now, when he is wrong?”
“Most especially when he is wrong.”
Liana listened to this, but still she didn’t understand.
Seeing that her young mistress was still confused, Joice continued. “Swallow your anger. All married women feed on anger that they keep to themselves. You will see. You will learn to swallow so much anger that it will become a way of living to you.”
Liana started to say something, but Joice cut her off.
“Go and get ready now or he will leave you.”
Feeling very confused, Liana hurried out of the room. She was going to do whatever she could to prove to this man that she could be a good wife, and if it meant repressing her rage, then so be it. She’d show him that she could be the most loyal of wives.
As Lord Rogan went down the stone steps, a frown on his handsome face, the first person he met was Lady Helen. “The deed is done,” he said to her. “There will be no annulment. If there is anything to be added to the wagons, then do it, for we leave in three hours’ time.” He started past her, but Helen put herself in front of him.
“You will take my stepdaughter away from her own wedding feast?”
Rogan didn’t understand what these women were making such a fuss about. If it was food they wanted, they could take plenty with them. “I will not starve the girl,” he said, making an effort to take the hatred from Helen’s eyes. He was not used to women hating him. For the most part they were like that girl he’d married: adoring and soft-eyed.
“You will starve her,” Helen said, “as your father starved his wives of warmth and companionship.” Her voice lowered. “As you starved Jeanne Howard.”
Helen stepped back when she saw the look on Rogan’s face. His eyes hardened and he looked at her with such rage that she began to tremble.
“Never come near me again, woman,” he said coldly, in a low undertone. He then stalked past her, ignored the calls of the guests to come and join them in a drink, and went outside to the courtyard.
Jeanne Howard, he thought. He could wring that woman’s neck for mentioning Jeanne to him, but it made him remind himself to be careful with this new wife, not to allow pretty blue eyes and blonde hair to sway him.
“You look ready to run someone through,” Severn said jovially. His face was flushed from too much food and drink.
“Are you ready to leave?” Rogan growled at him. “Or have you been too busy bedding the wenches to tend to the business at hand?”
Severn was used to his brother’s constant anger and he’d had too much wine to let it bother him now. “I have anticipated you, brother, and filled a wagon full of food. Do we leave the feather pillows or take them?”
“Leave them,” Rogan snapped, then hesitated. In his mind he heard Helen Neville saying, “As you starved Jeanne Howard,” and felt a knife twisting in his gut. The girl he’d married—what was her name?—seemed simple enough. “Let her have her feather mattresses,” he growled to Severn, and went to check on his men.
Severn watched his brother walk away and wondered what his pretty little sister-in-law was like.
Chapter
Five
Liana hurried to dress herself, to make sure all her new clothes were packed, and to direct her maids to pack her personal articles. Three hours was such a short time to ready herself for her new life.
All the while that she was rushing about, Joice lectured her.
“Do not complain,” Joice said. “Men hate women who complain. You are to take whatever he gives you and never say a word in protest. Tell him you are glad to be leaving your wedding feast, glad to have three hours to prepare yourself. Men like their women to be smiling and cheerful.”
“He hasn’t liked me yet,” Liana said. “He hasn’t taken any notice of me yet except to abolish the risk of an annulment,” she said with some bitterness.
“It will take years,” Joice said. “Men do not give their hearts easily, but if you persevere, love will come to you.”
And that’s what she wanted, Liana thought. She wanted her beautiful husband to love her and to need her. If swallowing a little anger now and then would make him love her, then so be it.
She was ready before the three hours were up, and she went downstairs to say goodbye to her father and stepmother. Gilbert was drunk and talking of hawks with some men and barely had a word of farewell to say to his only child, but Helen hugged her tightly and wished her all the best in the world.