Part 18 (2/2)
”Why should you care? I would think you'd be glad to be rid of any consequences of this night. I know that men beat their babes for doing no more than crying.”
He jerked back. ”What kind of men do you know?”
That had been the wrong thing to say. That had been a betrayal, and Alisoun scrambled off the bed. ”Just...men,” she said, in what she hoped was an offhand tone.
”No wonder you've found fault in every bridegroom, if that is your experience.”
”I didn't find fault because I feared them, but because they were unsuitable to my station, my wealth, or because they failed to take their responsibilities seriously.”
”Which am I?” He stood and stripped the sheet off the bed.
”Well, station and wealth, of course.”
”Ah, aye, my lady.” His brown eyes gleamed with some obscure emotion. ”Doesn't it strike you as ironic that twelve sacks of wool separate us?”
And a t.i.tle. But she didn't say that. When one looked at the matter, one could call a t.i.tle just a word spoken by the king which segregated his friends from his enemies. Doggedly, she pushed on. ”Although you've been negligent in your knightly practice, I understand your reluctance to show yourself incompetent against Hugh.” He turned his back and walked away from her, dragging the sheet. She wasn't used to such treatment. Irritated, she demanded. ”What are you doing?”
”Announcing our marriage.”
For a moment she didn't understand. Then her gaze fell on the b.l.o.o.d.y stain that marked the center of the white linen and she realized he moved toward the window. ”Nay!” She lunged for him.
Nimbly, he sidestepped her and flung open the sash. Leaning out, he shook the sheet and let it flap in the breeze. ”Look!” he yelled.
She ran up behind him.
”I took your lady's-”
Without thought or sense, she hit him in the back. If G.o.d were in His heaven, David would have tumbled to his death below. But the Lord obviously favored the miscreant, because David caught the sides of the window and saved himself-but not the sheet. It went flying, flapping, whirling to the ground into the middle of the vegetable garden while the castle folk watched. White and red on a background of lush green, it landed beside Tochi, who rose from his weeding and lifted it in his grubby hands. Everyone who stood below in the bailey-and today everyone in the castle seemed to be working outside-witnessed the evidence of her sin.
As Alisoun stared in dismay, Tochi grinned and flapped the sheet like a tournament flag. The others nudged each other. One by one, they pointed up at Alisoun where she stood framed in the window with David. A few of them bowed, a few waved, a few pulled their forelocks in respect. And who did they respect? Not her, she wagered, but David.
David, who stood naked and unashamed. David, the man they thought had seized control of her with the simple, animal act of taking her maidenhead.
”That was-” she sputtered, ”-despicable.”
”Why?” David leaned out and waved back. ”Everyone's happy.”
”I'm not.”
He pulled himself inside and turned to her. ”You were.”
”Nay, I-”
”For a time.”
She blushed. How could she help it? His brown eyes gleamed with a sure knowledge of her pleasure, brief though it had been. He knew so much more than she did. He knew more about her than she did.
”You do us an injustice, lady, when you place so little value on the pa.s.sions of the night.” He grasped the ribbon that tied her s.h.i.+ft and gave it determined little jerks. ”I put you in your s.h.i.+ft, now I would have you out of it.”
”There's not time for that! I have things to do, and we-”
”Occasionally, Alisoun, you show incredible stupidity.”
He untied the bow and loosened the neck of her s.h.i.+ft. She grabbed at his hand, but he was too strong and she was too surprised. What did he think he was doing? He was a rational man; she'd seen the results of his thoughts. So why was he taking off her clothes when she needed to be donning them in preparation for the day? Especially a day such as this one promised to be.
”Sir David, you must know that this is unacceptable behavior from the lady of George's Cross and her mercenary.”
”And what we did last night was acceptable behavior?” He slid the s.h.i.+ft down over her arms and trapped them there against her sides.
”Would you stop that?” First she tried to push her arms down into the sleeves, then she tried to pull them out. Anything to free herself.
But he wrapped his arms around her, rendering her struggles ineffectual, and lifted her against his body. Her feet dangled, but she commanded, ”Put me down at once.”
He looked at her and grinned. ”Aye, my lady.”
She found herself deposited on the table beside the bed. Picking up the medicines and bandages, he flung them on the bed. Then with a sweep of the arm, he cleared the pewter pitcher and cup off the surface. The pitcher struck the floor and wine mixed with water splashed everywhere.
”Sir David, this is not amusing. Now stop-”
Catching her lip in his teeth, he bit her.
Not hard, but she shrieked. ”How dare you?”
”How dare you plot to keep my child from me?” His voice rumbled from deep inside his chest.
She pushed at him as hard as she could. ”There is no child!”
”Yet.” Shoving her s.h.i.+ft up to her waist, he stepped between her legs and promised, ”But soon.”
”I am the lady of George's Cross, and I command-” His laughter stopped her. She looked at him, at the way he grinned and his gleam of determination, and she fathomed he was going to have her. He had something to prove, she didn't know what, and this day which she had organized would suffer for...for what?
”Schedule this.” He put one hand behind her hips to hold her still and used the other to touch her low and deep.
She jumped and winced.
”Too much, Alisoun?”
His touch lightened at once, easing the irritation and replacing it with a soothing sensation. She still strained for a moment, thinking she should fight him, but her eyelids slid shut, then her spine relaxed onto the wooden boards.
Just for a moment, she promised herself. She'd let him do this just until he was appeased. Inevitably, the illusion of her compliance would calm his ire.
She let him do what he would. His callused fingers proved surprisingly supple as they caressed her stomach, her thighs, and everything between. Last night the sensations had been too new for her to fully a.n.a.lyze their effect, but now she realized that when he stroked her skin, it first lulled her, then brought a tightening, almost a stimulation. What he did made her want him to do more, and she rolled her head on the boards in instinctive denial.
She couldn't want more. Surely madness didn't sweep one away at unsuitable times, but it was almost as if it were easier for him to arouse her this morning.
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