Page 57 of Bold Angel
“Turn around. Slowly. I would see what you have kept hidden from me for so long.”
She did as he commanded, careful not to look at him, wishing her heart didn’t hurt and that this night could be different, that it might be filled with caring and passion as she had imagined.
“I would know why you betrayed me,” he said when she faced him once more, his gray eyes hard and probing. “You are not Stephen’s whore, are you?”
She should have been angry at his words. Instead her insides felt leaden. “Nay.”
“Get in bed and open your legs.”
Something clenched inside her. She felt a burning behind her eyes, and though she tried to will it not to, a tear slid down her cheek. “I will do whatever it is that you wish, my lord. But I would have you know that I did not intend to betray you. Leofric said that the Ferret was a cutthroat. He said good knights and men-at-arms had fallen to his blade. I was worried for your safety and for that of your men. I did not think it mattered, which of you put the Ferret’s raiding to an end.”
Removing his clothes with angry, jerking motions, Ral suddenly went still. He tossed aside his tunic and turned in her direction. “You are saying you know naught of the bounty?”
“What bounty?”
Ral searched her face, her big dark eyes and soft trembling lips. He saw the pain etched in her features, the regret, and the sorrow. The bounty was not common knowledge, though ’twas no secret, either. Still, he had not told her the importance of his mission, had never bothered to explain. The anger in his heart began to ease, allowing the haze of his fury to fade, allowing him to think.
“The king has offered the land,” he said, “the demesme between here and Malvern, in return for the head of the Ferret.”
Caryn straightened. “The land you promised to the people of the village?”
“Aye.”
“Dear God in heaven.”
“You are saying you did not know?”
“I meant only to help you,” she said softly. “I would see Malvern’s men dead before those of Braxston Keep.”
Ral studied her long and hard. “Why should I believe you?” He wanted to. Christ’s blood, he had never wanted anything more. Her eyes came to rest on his face, velvet brown in the light of the candles.
“Because I loathe Stephen de Montreale even more than you do. Because I love the people in my village and I would never wish them harm. Because you are my husband, and I wanted you returned safely home.”
Did she mean it? Did he dare to trust her again? Yet the look in her eyes told him she spoke the truth. Ral took a steadying breath and something eased around his heart.
He reached toward her, ran his knuckles along her jaw, saw her uncertainty and the hope that sprang to life in her face. “Get into bed. What you have said does not change what must happen here this eve.” He pulled back the covers. “Only the way it will happen.”
Something in the gesture must have helped to ease her fears for some of the tension drained from her shoulders. “Aye, my lord.”
She did as he instructed, climbing up beneath the blankets, then watching as he walked to the door and called for a servant to bring them some wine. A few minutes later, a page appeared, carrying a jug and two tall pewter goblets. Ral waited for the boy to leave, filled the goblets, then strode to the side of the bed.
“Drink this. ’Twill help you to relax.”
She accepted the drink with hands a little unsteady, then did as he instructed, downing a goodly portion while he drank only a sip. Instead he pulled off his chainse, untied the garters on his chausses and removed them, and joined her naked on the bed.
She was staring at the covers, her face turned modestly away. He cupped her chin with his hand and forced her to look at him.
“Again we have suffered misunderstandings. I would not see it happen again.” He felt her agreement in the faintest nodding of her head. “From this day forward, you are my wife. Your loyalty belongs to me.”
“My loyalty has been yours since the day I learned the truth of what happened to my sister.”
“Stephen de Montreale is my sworn enemy. Should you aid him in any way, ’twill serve as a betrayal. I will never allow it again. Do you understand?”
“Aye, my lord.”
He bent his head and kissed her, felt her soft lips trembling under his. “I will try not to hurt you.”
Another soft kiss and she parted her lips, accepting the invasion of his tongue. She tasted of the rich red wine she had been sipping and smelled of soap and kittens. He wanted to drink in the scent of her, to run his tongue along every sweet, supple inch of her. He wanted to stroke her breasts till her nipples turned hard, then part her legs and drive himself inside her.
