“You whoreson!” she spat at him, her mind still reeling. She tried to pull away from him, but his arms were like iron bands.
“You didn’t think that when I was in your bed,” he whispered. “Indeed, you enjoyed yourself much, Blanche. And I did promise you that you would never sleep alone again. You are well caught, my love. Graelam is pleased. You will not gainsay me now.”
“No,” she moaned, still unable to believe what had happened.
Guy heard shouts and kissed her again, allowing his hand to slip down her back. “Mayhap my son already grows in your belly, my love. Chitterly is not so grand as Wolffeton, but you will grow contented, you will see. Now, Blanche, smile, else when I come to your bed tonight, I will take you without thought to your pleasure.”
“You planned this,” she gasped, feeling his hand upon her hips. “May you rot in hell, Guy! I will never wed you, never! ’Tis Graelam I want, and I shall have him!”
Guy was profoundly grateful for the lecherous calls and lewd jests from the men, and Graelam’s oblivious presence. “I think, my love, that you and I will leave the hall for a moment. There is much that you must come to understand.” Without another word, Guy hoisted her onto his shoulder and strode through the laughing men out of the hall.
She struggled mightily, but it was no use. She was panting in fury when he set her down and took her arm, pulling her along with him into the inner bailey. He took her into the warm, dark stable. Only Osbert was there, and Guy dismissed him quickly.
He gave her a light shove and she fell onto a pile of hay. He stood over her, hands on his lean hips. “Listen well, Blanche. It is my intention to turn you into a sweet, loving wife. If you fight me, I shall beat you, doubt it not.” He saw the rippling fury in her eyes, and hastened to add, his voice harsh, “Graelam does not want you. He never has. How you could be so blind astonishes me. You know as well as I that there are . . . problems between Graelam and Kassia, but you will not be here to add to Kassia’s unhappiness, or, I might add, my love, to hire more men to rid Wolffeton of her presence. No, do not bother to deny it. Now, I believe it time to . . . consummate our betrothal.”
He began shedding his clothing, and for a moment Blanche simply stared at him. Pain filled her, and she whispered, “You told Graelam that I willingly bedded you?”
“Aye.” He puased a moment and regarded her closely. “ ’Tis odd. Graelam still believes you modest and submissive. That you managed to keep him blind for so long is amazing to me.” He laughed heartily. “I assured him that you were quite a woman in my bed.”
“You do not want me,” she said, her eyes against her will going over his body as he bared himself. “It is that little slut you want. You know Graelam does not want her! Damn you, you know it!”
He stood before her, naked. “Graelam wants her, all right,” he said softly. “He merely does not know it yet. And with you gone from Wolffeton, my lady, he will come to understand her quickly enough, and himself. Do you like my body, Blanche? Last night you searched for the scar on my groin before you fell into a sated sleep. And Graelam is a much larger man. I was surprised that you did not recognize me last night, for you were drunk only on lust, and not on wine.”
“I was a fool,” she said dully.
Guy didn’t like the defeat in her eyes. “ ’Tis likely,” he said coolly, dropping down beside her on the hay. “But you have won me, Blanche. You do account me a good lover, do you not?”
“I believe you a nasty, cocky whoreson,” she spat him. He smiled and pressed her upon her back. “You are a feisty little witch, do you know that? Come now, Blanche, I know you are not indifferent to me, no more than I am to you.” He kissed her deeply, his hand gliding downward over her belly. He felt the ripple of pleasure in her as she arched her hips up toward him. “No,” he whispered into her mouth, “not indifferent at all. You are a delightful bargain, my love. I will easily make you forget Graelam and Wolffeton.”
“You could pretend that you are pleased,” Graelam said, looking sharply at his wife.
Kassia gave him a wan smile. “I will miss Guy,” she said. “He has been kind to me.”
“Aye, so many men are kind to you. Even Drieux sings your praises.” He leaned closer to her. “Have you entertained the good merchant in your bed?”
“Since my bed is also yours, my lord,” she said coldly, “you know you speak only to fan your dislike of me.” She shrugged. “Of course, since you have not been in your bed for several nights, you cannot really know, can you?”
She felt gooseflesh rise on her arms at his deep laugh, and wished she had kept her mouth shut. Why did she allow him to bait her? “You sound lonely, my lady. But I wonder how that can be so, when you are still a child, and have no use for men.” He sat back in his chair, his arms folded over his chest. “I imagine that at this very moment Guy is thrusting deep between Blanche’s lovely thighs. That bothers you, does it not?”
She shook her head, not looking at him.
“Kassia, you believe I dislike you. Damn you, look at me when I speak!”
She obeyed him. “Aye, I believe it,” she whispered. “Not at first, but you changed.”
“I, wife? ’Tis only that I discovered my sweet, innocent wife was a deceitful bitch.”
Was there never to be an end to it? she wondered wearily. “I did not hurt you, my lord. Nor have I ever been deceitful.”
He cursed very softly, aware that Blount was looking at him.
“May I be excused, my lord?”
He waved her away. He watched her walk gracefully through the hall, stopping to speak to various of his men, and felt his irritation grow. He thought again of the conversation he had had with Drake, his armorer, that afternoon. He admitted to himself that he had been wavering in his beliefs until Drake had matter-of-factly stated in his even, emotionless way that women, even the best of them, couldn’t help themselves. “They spin tales, my lord,” he said as if he were calmly discussing the weather. “Lady Kassia lied to you, but again, she is but a woman. How could she tell you the truth?” Drake shrugged, and spat into the corner of the armory.
“Mayhap,” Graelam heard himself say as if from a great distance, “she did not lie.”
“She is young, my lord. Wolffeton is vastly different from her home in Brittany. Why did she try to escape you? Why did she come back? Why, my lord, does any woman behave in ways that make our heads spin?” He picked up a hauberk and began to pound methodically at the iron fastenings. “You might as well forget it, my lord. Accept your lady for what she is.”