“Rode out for Bevan this morning,” Severn answered, not looking up.
“Bevan? Where your family was starved?”
Severn gave her a quick glance and put the bird on its perch. “That’s the one.”
“When will he return?”
Severn shrugged and walked away.
Liana followed him, lifting her skirts so she could hurry. “He just rode out? No word to anyone? He didn’t tell anyone when he planned to return? I want you to give the men permission to drain the moat.”
Severn stopped, turned, and looked down at her. “Drain the moat? Are you crazy, woman? The Howards could—”
“Walk across the thing as it is now,” Liana said, glaring up at him. “When will my husband return?”
The stern expression left Severn’s face and his eyes began to twinkle. “My brother rode out of here before dawn, saying only that he was going to Bevan Castle. If you asked him to order the moat drained, I imagine that had something to do with his leaving.”
Liana didn’t say a word.
“Scared to, eh?” Severn said, beginning to smile.
Liana couldn’t stop the blood from creeping into her face, as he had guessed correctly.
“I’m not about to give permission and have Rogan come back and see the moat empty,” Severn said, and turned away again.
Liana stood staring after him. It upset her that Rogan was gone, but she thought she could perhaps more easily put the castle and the village in order if he weren’t there. Severn was a much softer man than Rogan was, she could see that, and she thought perhaps there was a way to persuade Severn, a way she had used to persuade her father to do anything she wanted: food.
Liana sent Joice to fetch her precious recipe book, then Liana straightened her headdress and went up the stairs to the kitchen rooms.
It was late that night when Liana climbed alone into her bed. She was exhausted but happy too, for she now had permission to have a ditch dug to drain the filthy moat.
It had taken all day, but she’d managed to get the kitchens and the retainers’ hall somewhat clean and she’d laid before Severn and the Peregrine knights a banquet fit for a king. She’d served roasted beef, pink and juicy, capon in orange sauce, rabbit cooked with onions and raisins, spinach and cheese tarts, eggs in mustard sauce, spiced pears, mince pies, and apple mousse.
By the time Severn and his men stopped gorging themselves, Liana knew she could have anything she wanted from them. Patting his swollen belly, Severn not only agreed to her request, he offered to help dig. She’d smiled and said that wouldn’t be necessary, then handed him a plate heaped high with sweet jellied milk cubes.
If only my husband were so easy to win, Liana thought as she sank wearily onto the feather mattress. She tried not to wonder what her husband was doing at Bevan Castle. Was he in the arms of another woman?
Rogan sat before the fireplace in Bevan Castle, as unaware of the filth and disrepair around him as he was at Moray Castle. He had eyes only for the pretty young peasant girl before him.
When he’d left Moray early that morning, he wasn’t sure why he was leaving. He knew only that he’d awakened from sleep and his first thought was of that blonde-haired she-devil he’d married. He’d scratched at the fleas that had so willingly left the old mattress he’d slept on and jumped on his skin, and knew he wanted to put some distance and time between him and the girl.
He’d ordered some men to ready themselves and had ridden out, stopping in the village to pick up Thursday to take her with him. But Thursday had cringed and cried and begged him not to force her to go with him as the Fire Lady would kill her. Rogan had left the girl in disgust. He heard the same from Sunday and Tuesday, so he’d ridden with no woman to Bevan.
Bevan Castle was isolated atop a tall, steep hill, and before he began the climb, he stopped in the village below and took the first pretty, healthy-looking girl he saw and pulled her across his saddle. Now, the girl stood trembling before him.
“Stop shaking,” he commanded her, scowling. She was younger than he’d first imagined. He saw her shaking increase and his scowl deepened. “Come here and give me a kiss,” he ordered.
Tears began to run down the girl’s face, but she stepped toward him and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Rogan grabbed her greasy hair and pulled her mouth down to his and kissed her angrily. He felt the girl whimper under him. He released her, pushing her so she fell to the floor.
“Do not hurt me, please, my lord,” the girl begged. “I will do as you say, but please do not hurt me.”
Rogan’s desire left him. He remembered too well a woman who was eager for him, a woman who didn’t smell of grease and pig manure. “Get out of here,” he said under his breath. “Go before I change my mind!” he yelled when the girl was too frightened to move. He turned away as she scurried from the room.
Rogan went to one of the barrels along the wall and tapped a stream of dark, bitter beer into a dirty wooden mug. One of his knights lay sleeping nearby. Rogan kicked him in the ribs. “Get up,” he commanded. “And get some dice. I will need something to help me sleep tonight.”
Chapter
Nine