The Lily and the Sword (Medieval 1)

The golden eyes slid over him, devouring him. “You have not changed,” she said, but Radulf had already turned away.

Taking long strides toward the door, he pulled the now subdued Lily along behind him. As they passed into the outer chamber, Lily finally managed to free herself. She spun to face him, stiff and white.

With a resigned and heartfelt sigh, Radulf prepared himself for the onslaught. He felt physically and mentally drained, and now Anna was there to complicate matters. But he had expected Lily to be angry, and after what had been said about her and done to her, it was natural she would want her say.

“I will never marry you!” Her voice was trembling uncontrollably. “All Normans are greedy land-grabbing monsters! I had thought Vorgen bad enough, but now I see that you are worse!” She swung her arm, aiming blindly.

Radulf easily caught the blow in his palm, folding her shaking hand into his. He lifted an eyebrow and replied mildly, “You know that is not true. I have lands enough, and no love for your northern wilds. I agreed to take them because I feared what would happen to them if I did not. And as for marriage…if you do not marry me, lady, then you will be imprisoned for the rest of your life. Tell me, would you prefer to be shackled by a vow, or by irons?”

“Irons!” Her voice bit, stirring his own anger despite his determination to listen to her complaints with patience. “I was wed to one Norman, and I’d rather die than be wed to another!”

“Lady—” he warned.

“No! Take me back! I will speak again with your king. I am the granddaughter of Harald Hardraada, the king of Norway! I am the daughter of an English earl—”

He grasped her shoulders and shook her, until her voice faltered and stopped.

“The king has ordered that we marry, and you will marry me tomorrow and smile and pretend you like it. Just as I will. I have your lands now, and the ruling of your precious people. If you argue with me, if you disobey me, I will take my vengeance out on them.”

He did not mean it. He had never been a man who vented his spleen on the defenseless, but Lily could not know that. Her gray eyes glittered silver with tears.

“Why?” she gasped. “Why marry a woman you hate…who hates you? Is it to punish me? I do not understand,” she wailed, “why could you not have refused!”

He looked down at her a moment longer. “If I had refused then William would have found you another Norman, one less amenable then I.”

She made a most unladylike sound.

He smiled coldly. “It was my pride you dented with your tricks and your lies, not some other Norman’s. I will have my revenge on you my way. And what better revenge than to have you as my wife, in my power, forever?”

Lily flushed again with what he assumed was anger, but was actually horror. Her heart was thumping like a muffled drum, and for a long moment she thought she really might faint. She knew very well the fate that lay before her as the wife of a man who hated her.

“And if I do not wed you, you will ravage my lands?” she whispered.

“Aye,” he blustered.

She said nothing, giving him a wild look.

“But there is something apart from all that, lady. Another consideration.”

“Oh?” She managed through her aching throat.

“Aye, and it was this that swayed me most in favor of the king’s order.” She stiffened only slightly as he bent close to whisper in her ear. “I find great pleasure in your body. I enjoy touching you, kissing you…I enjoy being inside you and hearing you cry out. I think I will enjoy making an heir on you, lady. Planting my seed and seeing you swell.”

She had gone very still. He watched her eyes dilate, her breasts begin to rise and fall very rapidly. “You…you will?” she managed to croak.

“Yes, I will. And do not think to deny me once that heir has been born. I will have as many children on you as I can while we are both able!”

It was a monstrous thing to say, he knew it as soon as the words were past his lips, but it was too late to pull them back. Besides, he wanted her and it was best she know it. He stepped closer, grasping her shoulders and pulling her up against the hard wall of his chest until her breasts were flattened against him. Her nipples, he noticed with interest, had gone hard.

His voice was a husky whisper. “I will lay with you every day of my life, mignonne, and still it will not be enough to rid me of the spell you have cast upon me.”

There was such a shimmer of heat in Radulf’s dark eyes that Lily’s lips fell open; her breath caught in her throat. Her skin was still flushed and hot, but now something very different from anger was heating it. The truth was well-nigh unbearable to her pride. Oh God, she wanted him to wed her! She wanted to lie in his bed every day, just as he said. She wanted to bear his children! Large, black-haired, brawling boys!

He read the need in her eyes, and his wonderful mouth tugged up at the corners. “Do you want that, too, lady? Do you?” His fingers slid across her cheek, playing with the soft fleshy part of her ear. His breath heated her lips.

He gave a short, humorless laugh. “We are both caught in the spell then, with no way out. William has forced us into marriage and we will make the most of it.”

Lily swallowed and closed her eyes against the wicked temptation in his. “Never!” she gasped, but it was a lie and he knew it.