“He is very peculiar,” Lily murmured, when they were far enough away so that Lord Kenton could not overhear.
“What did he say to you?”
Do not love him, lady. “I didn’t hear it.”
Radulf gave her a frowning look. “Aye, he is peculiar, and slippery as an eel. He has lands not far from York, which he got through the use of his tongue rather than his sword arm. If he wants to fight, he hires mercenaries to die for him.” Radulf’s eyes were hard and cold. “I do not like him, lady. I do not trust him. You should take care if you are ever again in his company.”
“That is odd,” she retorted. “He said the same thing about you.”
His eyes flashed, and Lily was reminded that the fire of his anger was only banked, not yet quenched. She wondered if it was Lord Kenton himself that Radulf disliked, or the fact that he was Lady Anna’s husband.
“For a Norman he appeared harmless enough,” she went on, as if unaware of his glowering look. “Has he been wed to Lady Anna long?”
Emotion flared again in Radulf’s black eyes; he was losing the tight clamp he had placed on his temper. He gripped Lily’s hand painfully tight. “Come, lady, we are leaving. I have had enough of talk.”
Their leave-takings were done in surprisingly short time. With William’s good wishes and bawdy laughter ringing in their ears, Radulf and his new wife left to return to the inn.
Lily found the dark ride through York a far different affair from their journey to the castle. The quiet, cold streets were dreamlike, a scene from one of her mother’s Norse stories. The white mist clung about the horses’ hooves, stirring to their movement, lapping at the doors of the houses they passed.
Swaying, light-headed, Lily became aware of how weary she was. And how confused. What was this Lady Anna to Radulf? Why should he be so angry about something as simple as a borrowed gown? And what could the woman’s hints and innuendos refer to?
They have been lovers.
Her inner voice scoffed at her stubborn refusal to see what must be clear to everyone else. Once Radulf had held Anna in his arms, kissed her wide mouth, and gazed into her golden eyes. And she had stroked that broad back and held him in the throes of love. According to Anna, Radulf’s heart still belonged to her. Was that why he had not married until now? Because he could not have the woman he truly loved?
Lily shuddered, torn with a jealousy so great it was beyond description. Was that why he had been so angry with her, because she had reminded him of what he could not have? And Lord Kenton, did he know about Radulf and his beautiful wife? Was that why he spoke so strangely, firing little barbs at Radulf and trying to wound him?
It must be
so.
Lily closed her eyes and felt the knife twist in her heart. The truth was, she wanted Radulf to be hers. Only hers.
The mist swirled, and she was cold despite her warm cloak. Though Radulf’s men rode silently about her and Radulf was a dark shadow at her side, Lily suddenly felt very much alone.
The inn was warm and stuffy, the air thick with woodsmoke. Una had decorated Lily’s room with flowers, and there were fresh linens upon the bed. She had also set out a tray with warmed spiced wine and oatcakes. The fire was burning brightly, throwing wild shadows upon the walls.
It was a sanctuary, and yet Lily did not feel safe.
The girl served them silently, her bright smile quickly fading as she sensed the strained atmosphere between the couple. Beyond the closed door, Radulf’s men laughed and cheered in celebration of their lord’s nuptials, their noise accentuating the silence within the bedchamber.
Radulf drained his goblet, barely noticing what he drank. He was pale and there were hollows under his eyes from two nights with little sleep. He felt sick and wretched. “Take the gown off and I will have it returned immediately,” he directed.
Lily touched the mellow, satiny cloth with one careful finger. It was unlikely she would ever wear such a garment again. Despite what Radulf had said, he would probably keep her in rags and chained to the wall of their bedchamber.
“I do not understand why my wearing it should displease you,” she replied soberly.
He gave her a bleak look. “It is not a subject for this night. Take off the gown.”
She was sorely tempted to refuse and see what he would do, but Lily was fairly sure that in his present mood he would strip it off her. She had more pride than to allow that. Widening her eyes to stop the tears, Lily undid the ties at either side of her waist, and with quick, jerky movements, loosened the gown so that she could slip it over her hips. She released first one arm and then the other, and the golden cloth fell in a pool at her feet. Beneath it she wore a chemise so fine it was barely more than being naked. The fire flared behind her, and she became aware that her body was clearly visible through the silken material.
She also became aware of Radulf’s stillness.
He had caught his breath, and his eyes shone hot and black. Lily wavered, folding her arms across her breasts. She had opened her mouth to tell him to leave when the memory of Anna’s seductive smile, the expression in those exquisite eyes, slipped unbidden into her mind.
How do you know that Radulf will not return the gown himself? that sly voice asked. And that he will not stay to take wine with Lady Anna, and then to kiss her and fondle her? And before long they will be together, entwined, in Lady Anna’s bed.
Jealousy wrenched Lily again. I am his wife now, she reminded herself. Why should I send him to another woman, when it is in my power to keep him with me?