Rosehaven (Medieval Song 5) - Page 24

She’d never believed there was a vain bone in her body. She said, “You think I am beautiful?”

8

SEVERIN STARED AT HER A MOMENT. “NAY,” HE SAID slowly, wondering what was in her mind, “I would not extend myself that far, but you are comely for a wife. All know that wives are not meant to be anything above the ordinary. If they happen to be heiresses, as you are, then it is a joyous thing if they don’t have rabbit teeth, no more than one chin, and no hair sprouting off their lips like the woman Beale. In this, you have pleased me. It is not painful to look upon you. But still it doesn’t matter. Wives are not made for a man’s pleasure. They are made to bear a man’s children.”

“Lord Graelam loves his wife. He believes her beautiful. I believe he feels a great deal of lust for her. He told me that he missed her and their sons.”

“I do not understand why Graelam has fallen into this snare. I have met his wife. She is small, her smile is sweet, yet she jests with him and he smiles. She adores him. Perhaps it is this worship she has for him that has softened him toward her. Aye, that must be it.”

“That is ridiculous. You are ridiculous.”

He stared at her mouth. She knew he must be wondering how this mouth of hers could say such things to him. She wondered as well. She didn’t know him, she wasn’t stupid, and thus she took a quick step back.

“Aye, you’d best keep your distance, Hastings. I dare say that Kassia never spoke thusly to Graelam. None of this matters. I have told you how things will be between us. I will not tell you again. I will give you your four days, Hastings, then you will not leave my bed until I tell you that you may. You will bear a child in nine months. You will do it. I will not hear you say nay.”

“But becoming with child isn’t at all certain, Severin. Even I know that. There are women who never bear a child. Something is either lacking in them or in their husbands. No one knows what makes this happen, but you cannot be certain that we will be lucky.”

“You will become quickly with child. I know it.”

“How can you know

that? Have you sired many bastards? Nay, that isn’t possible. You are too young.”

He laughed. “A man can impregnate a woman each time he spills his seed in her. Years have naught to do with anything. But no, I haven’t sired many bastards. None here in England, but in the Holy Land, aye. All the women who came to me were skilled in preventing conception. Regardless, three of them became with child.”

There was stark pride in his voice. It amazed her. “What did you do about your children?”

“None of them survived. I was sorry for it. Two were sons. But there is all the proof I need. My seed is potent. Your belly will swell by the fall. Don’t argue further with me. You will have your four days.” He paused a moment, staring toward her herb drawers. “You will use nothing to prevent conceiving my child, Hastings.”

She could but stare at him. “I would have no idea how to even if I wished it. Do you think I have no honor, Severin?”

“You are a woman. Naturally you have no honor. Such a notion is beyond you.”

“Then why did I save your life? Why did I shove you out of the way of the assassin’s knife?”

He knew he was being unfair, but he didn’t care. He’d had to wed with her to gain enough wealth to bring Langthorne back. He had sworn to protect her from vermin like de Luci. What else could she expect from him? He said sharply, “You didn’t shove hard enough, did you?”

“Next time I will not shove at all.”

“There will not be a next time. Very well, you showed bravery, I will grant you that. And you healed me, but in all other things you haven’t pleased me. I ask not that much of you. See to the keep. See to the child. See to my shoulder. Obey me. There is nothing else for you to do.”

She actually smiled up at him. “And what will you do, Severin?”

“I? Whenever your woman’s perversity keeps you from me, I will take Alice to relieve my lust. She is comely and enjoys men. I have remarked several comely women here in the keep. They will see to me.”

Without thought, with all her strength, Hastings threw the three-legged stool at him. It struck his belly, hard. He winced. She saw it and it pleased her until he was striding toward her and then she ducked around him. But she wasn’t fast enough. He grabbed her arm and jerked her back to him. He grabbed her other arm and shook her hard. He lifted her off her feet and brought her nose to nose. “You dare?” His breath was of the sweet ale MacDear made for the men.

She prayed that Trist would poke his head out of Severin’s tunic. That was why she’d thrown the stool low. She’d been afraid she would hit the marten.

Trist wasn’t with his master.

He shook her again.

“You struck me. You struck your husband, your master. You threw that stool at me. I would kill a man for a lesser assault.”

Even though she was afraid, she heard the outrage in his voice. He simply could not believe what she had done. He shook her again.

“You will not shame me,” she said, knowing well that he could kill her with but a single blow from his fist. In the next instant it would matter, but in this instant it didn’t. “I am your wife, that is true, thus you will not take any of my servants to your bed. That is your responsibility to me. Just ask Father Carreg.”

Tags: Catherine Coulter Medieval Song Historical
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