Forbidden Love (16 page)

Much of the tension fled from her delicate features, to be replaced by genuine pleasure. "Robert! It is you. I wasn't sure for a moment You look so... impressive. . . ."

A boyish grin wreathed his long, narrow face as he glanced down at the richly made tunic, chain mail, and sword that had sparked her comment Teasingly, he said, "Why, thank you! I can remember a time when you thought me quite the opposite."

Flushing slightly, Roanna made room for him on the bench. Gently, she insisted, "I always found you a valued friend, Robert If I ever gave you any other impression, I am sorry."

Light blue eyes softened as he gazed at her, missing nothing of her radiant beauty or of the faint hint of tension evident in the set of her firm chin and the slight stiffness of her shoulders. "No, you never did. It was just that I wanted more." There was no rancor in his tone as he added, "At any rate, you are right about my looking different I suppose the last few months have changed me quite a bit"

"Have you been here all that time?" Roanna asked, anxious to steer the conversation away from talk of the past.

Robert nodded. "I came in October with the Duke, I mean, the King. My father secured a place for me in the army, although at the time I don't imagine anyone thought I could be much use." His thin, sensitive mouth curved in a self-deprecating grin. "As you may remember, I was never all that good at fighting."

That was true. When she had last seen him in Normandy the year before, Robert d'Almaric was still conscientiously plugging away at his martial training, without much success. His lanky build and poor coordination worked against him, but more serious man either was his lack of aggressiveness. Robert never experienced the fierce blood lust that propelled his kinsmen into battle. His patient, reasonable nature predisposed him to far more peaceful pursuits. By the time he reached his eighteenth year, he was almost the despair of his warlord father, who could scarcely believe he had sired so unsuitable an heir.

Not until Robert suddenly, and from Roanna's point of view quite unexpectedly, asked for her hand in marriage did his father come round to thinking there might be some hope for the boy after all. If he had the sense to go after one of the most beddable girls at court, and an heiress to boot, perhaps he wasn't completely lacking in manly instincts.

To Roanna, the proposal was so unwelcome as to be almost a betrayal. She and Robert were friends. They shared many of the same interests and enjoyed each other's company, but never for an instant did he make her feel the slightest desire to be his wife.

Fortunately, Guyon understood her dismay. He had gently turned aside the proposal, but not even his considerable tact was enough to spare Robert from hurt He left court for his father's estates, and Roanna did not see him again until he suddenly appeared at her side in the King's antechamber.

"You were good at many other things," she reminded him gently.

Robert's mouth tightened. "Perhaps, but they didn't count for much. I finally came round to accepting the fact that to get what he wants in life, a man has to be willing to fight for it."

Sadness darkened Roanna's eyes as she recognized the harshness in him that had never before been present. Whatever part she had played in bringing that about, she regretted it deeply. Meeting his gaze, she asked, "And have you gotten what you want?"

Robert glanced away, still more self-conscious around her than he liked to admit "Some of it. I fought well at Hastings. William recognized that by granting me an estate. It isn't large, but it's enough to start. I'm no longer dependent on my father's wealth, although now he's willing to give me anything since I convinced him I'm really a man."

"You were always a man, Robert. There was never any doubt about that"

Slender shoulders shrugged dismissively. "Maybe not, but I prefer things the way they are now." Hesitating a moment, he added, "That's enough about me. What brings you here? I heard you were. . . married. . . ."

Roanna nodded. "I am here with my husband. He has come to speak with the King."

"Do I know him?"

"I doubt it. His name is Colin Algerson."

Robert's eyes widened. He could not quite hide his shock. "An Anglo-Saxon? What was your brother thinking of to allow such a union?"

Not even the memory of their friendship would cause Roanna to tolerate such prejudgment of her marriage. Stiffly, she said, "He was thinking of my happiness."

"Oh . . . well... I suppose if Guyon gave his approval, there must have been some good reason. It's just that. . ."

Turning to face her, he suddenly took her hand in his. "I'm still very fond of you, Roanna. You must know that"

Uncomfortable with his touch but not eager to cause a scene, she let her hand stay in his as she said, "We have been friends for a long time. I hope we can remain so."

This was not precisely what Robert wanted to hear, but before he could press her they were interrupted by a low, feral drawl. "Very touching. I hope I haven't arrived at an inconvenient moment?"

Colin loomed over them. To the casual observer he looked perfectly calm and unruffled. But to Roanna who knew him far too well to be fooled, the coldness of his slate gray eyes, the hard line of his mouth, and the jagged pulse beating in the corded column of his throat were eloquent warnings of barely contained rage.

Hastily, she said, "May I present Sir Robert d'Almaric, an old friend of mine from the court in Normandy. My husband, Colin Algerson."

Robert stood up quickly, not sure precisely what it was about the other man that disconcerted him, but fully aware that despite his newly proven skills it was still the height of foolishness to provoke anyone so large and brutal-looking. Bowing stiffly, he muttered, "My congratulations on your marriage, sir. You are most fortunate."

Colin smiled humorlessly. "How kind of you to say so. I'm sure my wife wants all her . . . friends ... to approve her marriage."

Roanna flushed at his emphasis, but kept prudently silent. This was not the place to try to convince him that any hopes Robert harbored toward her were completely unwarranted. Nor did she consider it fair that she might have to do so. After all, Colin had all but ignored her for days, making it clear that his brief infatuation with her body was over and that he had no further use for her. What right then did he have to deny her the admiration of another man?

Robert glanced at her worriedly as it dawned on him that he might have caused some problem for her. The thought of Roanna having to face the anger of so formidable a husband filled him with dread. But before he could make any effort to defuse it, Colin took charge of the situation.

Grasping Roanna's arm, her lord informed her, "I will be here for some time yet meeting with William. The escort will take you home." Nodding dismissively at Robert, he firmly propelled his wife out of the room and downstairs to where their guard waited.

Acutely aware of the curious stares they were provoking from the other nobles, she had no choice but to go with him quietly. But the angry glints in her tawny eyes warned that she considered the matter far from settled.

Snatching her arm from him, she lifted herself smoothly into the saddle and seized the reins of her palfrey from the page who held them. Refusing to look at Colin, she nudged the horse forward determinedly.

The clatter of hooves drowned out a low sigh that might have been her name muttered by a frustrated, worried man.

Lady Margaret greeted Roanna upon her return, but the older woman quickly guessed her young friend was in no mood for company. She watched her go upstairs worriedly, wishing there was something she could do to help but knowing that matters of the heart had to be resolved alone. Nonetheless, when Roanna did not appear in the hall for supper that evening, it was Lady Margaret who sent a tray up to her and dropped by her room later to make sure she had eaten.

Roanna greatly appreciated her concern, but she could not speak of her feelings to anyone. Nor could she sleep. Far into the night she lay awake thinking over what she would say to her arrogant, overbearing husband when he at last returned.

But by morning there was still no sign of Colin, and Roanna's anger had long since turned to desperation.

"
I
'm sure there is nothing to be worried about, my lady," Alaric soothed. "Lord Colin had a great deal of business to take care of at Court If he was delayed very long, he'd most likely just decide to stay over."

Eyeing his young mistress compassionately, the housecarl added, "I warrant he'll be home any minute." Privately, he was not so certain. While it was true that the previous night had been moonless, and therefore so dark as to make even a short journey almost impossible, it was also strange behavior for any new husband to dally so late as to be prevented from returning to his bride.

Alaric did not seriously consider that Colin might be in any danger, although he had already decided to wait only a short time longer before going to look for him. What troubled him most as he studied Roanna's wan face and red-rimmed eyes was the traitorous thought that for the first time in all the years he had known and respected him, his master just might be acting the fool.

Masking any hint of what was in his mind, he reassured his mistress once more before departing to work off his irritation and concern on the hapless men-at-arms drilling in the courtyard.

Roanna had no such ready outlet for her own anxiety. She found only minimal distraction in helping Lady Margaret and the other women clean the great hall. With the assistance of several servants, the matted, filth-encrusted rushes were removed, the floor and walls scrubbed, a fresh coat of whitewash applied, and new tables and benches set in place.

The work was hard but satisfying. With her sleeves rolled up, her hair tucked out of the way, and an apron covering her sensible linen tunic, she managed to expend a little of the nervous energy that threatened to explode within her. But by mid-morning she was still acutely on edge.

Her thoughts kept wandering back to Colin, to the way he had been since the attack on the stronghold, and, most particularly, how he had looked when he found her with Robert Her temper worsened as she reflected yet again on the injustice of his condemnation. If he meant to punish her by staying away like this, he was succeeding all too well.

The other women stayed prudently out of her way as she fiercely scrubbed and swept Though their gratitude to Roanna knew no bounds, not even Lady Margaret felt close enough to her yet to offer sympathy. They could only glance at each other worriedly and hope that his lordship would soon return.

Just before noon, he did. Roanna heard the men-at-arms guarding the gate call a welcome as Colin rode in. She straightened in sudden dismay. After the rigorous labors of the morning, she must look a fright Dropping her broom, she hurried upstairs. If she had to confront an angry, vengeful husband, she would do it looking her best.

By the time Colin entered his wife's chamber, she was seated on a bench near the window looking the perfect picture of serene femininity. Her apparent composure belied the frantic speed with which she had stripped off her soiled tunic, dropped a fresh silk concoction over her head, and hastily combed the tangles from her golden hair.

Her beauty swept over him as he missed nothing of the flush coloring her damask cheeks, her ripe mouth, and the glitter of her amber eyes which he presumed were caused by her pleasure at his return.

In fact, they were the outward evidence of apprehension that had grown throughout the long night and morning. But as Roanna took in her lord's disheveled appearance, anxious dread gave way to pure, unbridled outrage.

Colin's hair was mussed, his eyes red-rimmed, his chain mail soiled, and he sported a night's growth of beard. But none of that accounted for the fury that swept through her. It was the reek of stale ale and wine undercut by a musky perfume clinging to him that brought her to her feet, her small fists clenched and all sense of caution banished.

Sneeringly, she hissed, "I trust you had a profitable stay at court, my lord. It certainly seems to have taken its toll of you."

Colin's smile abruptly vanished. He was very tired, his head hurt, and he had a great deal on his mind. He was in no mood to cope with a spitting termagant.

Sitting down heavily on the side of the bed, he muttered, "Hold your tongue, woman. You have already displeased me far enough without being so foolish as to add to it."

Roanna's eyes widened in disbelief. Her temper, already so severely strained, broke all bounds. She took a step toward him wrathfully. "I have displeased you! Why you pompous boor! How dare you speak of my behavior when your own is such a model of indecency!"

For a moment, Colin's broad forehead creased in bewilderment He had no idea what she was talking about but that did not change the fact that he would not permit his wife to speak to him in such a way. His voice was dangerously low as he warned, "You forget yourself."

As near to him as she now was, Roanna could make out other telltale signs of debauchery. As though the perfume were not bad enough, mere was a streak of vermillion along his jaw. While she had no more experience with face paint than any other lady, she had no difficulty guessing the cause of the stain. The whores who thronged London used just such an artifice on their lips, cheeks, and even the nipples often left exposed by their blatant garb.

Tears turned her eyes to glittering jewels as pain twisted through her. Ignoring his warning, she blurted, "On the contrary, I have not said enough. Pray tell me, dear husband, how you spent this past night"

Colin paused in the act of pulling off his boots. He looked up at her ominously. "Do you suggest I need account for my actions to you?"

A harsh laugh broke from Roanna's clenched throat "I can well understand why you do not choose to. But at least, enlighten me as to who was so gracious as to offer you hospitality when you found yourself stranded for the night"

Colin shrugged, perplexed as to why she should give such importance to the identity of his host "I met again with the King and then with Odo. Our talk ran late. So the bishop gave me supper and a bed." More sharply, he demanded, "Does that satisfy your unseemly curiosity?"

It did, all too welL The prelate was renowned for the licentiousness of his household. His holy office did not prevent him from providing the most wanton entertainment for his guests. Far from concerning himself with the state of the souls he harbored under his roof, he counted it a matter of honor that no bodily urge need go unsatisfied. As in Normandy, his table groaned with an excess of dishes, wine and ale flowed in reckless abandon, and whores were ever ready to be tumbled.

More hurt than she would have believed possible short weeks before, Roanna faced him pale and trembling. The knowledge that he no longer desired her had been bad enough. But to be forced to confront his infidelity was more than she could bear.

Recklessly, she lashed out, "What a hypocrite you are! I saw how you looked when you found me with Robert You twisted our friendship into something shameful and blamed me for it Well, let me tell you, anything I felt for him was far better than whatever feelings you had for the tramp you dallied with last night!"

Colin's eyes widened in disbelief. For a brief instant he thought he must be dreaming. The furious shrew confronting him bore no resemblance at all to his beautiful, loving wife. But then, he reminded himself grimly, perhaps she no longer had any reason to be alluring with him. Now that she had rediscovered her Norman, perhaps she regretted ever allowing him to touch her.

Allowing? His face twisted unpleasantly. She had done a damn sight more than that He well remembered how frankly she had admitted her desire for him. Was she as forward with other men now that she had discovered the full power of her beauty?

His boots dropped with a thud. Rising swiftly, he crossed the room in angry strides. A flush darkened his rugged face and his eyes glinted like molten silver.

"Do you hope to hide your own guilt by falsely accusing me?" He seized her by the shoulders, shaking her hard. "Was there more than what I witnessed at court? Perhaps you long for that soft-skinned Norman. If so, you are doomed to disappointment No man takes what is mine!"

Roanna stared up at him in bewilderment He seemed perfectly sincere in his outrage, yet she could not reconcile his assertion that he was wrongly charged with the lingering evidence of his night's escapade.

Mindless of his harsh grip, she shot back, "Do you mink me an addled fool? If you truly thought to trick me, you should at least have bathed before coming up here! The stink of whore's perfume and the mark of her lips belies you!"

Whatever Colin had been about to say died in his throat He stared at her dumbfounded, the fury slowly dying from him. All that was left was hurt surprise.

"You thought..." Easing his grip without completely freeing her, he said slowly, "It is true there were women at the bishop's residence. Apparently, there always are .... I may well have picked up their smell ... and one or two may have gotten close enough to leave some trace. But that does not mean I laid with any of them."

His face hardened again as he demanded, "How in God's name could you believe me capable of such infamy? Whatever have I done that you would think I hold our marriage vows in such low repute?"

Roanna hesitated, wanting desperately to believe him. But the memory of his aloofness over the last few days prevented her. Dismally, she said, "What confidence can I have that you would not take another woman now that you no longer desire me?"

Colin had the curious sensation of having stepped into some twisting maze composed not of serpentine paths but of words that reflected nothing he knew of order or reason. Confounded, he shook himself as though trying to fling the fog from his mind.

"No longer desire you? By all the saints, that is the most demented charge you have made so far! Have your wits fled entirely?"

Her face was drained of all color as Roanna shook her head dismally. "You have made no secret of your feelings. Throughout the journey here, you could hardly bring yourself to touch me. And only the other night you turned away yet again when there was no reason why we couldn't have . . ." She broke off, the look in his eyes making her forget whatever else she might have said.

After the long, tension-filled hours at court, Colin's temper was strained to the breaking point The realization of how totally his wife had misunderstood his actions destroyed what little patience he had left

Between clenched teeth, he muttered, "Sweet Lord! When I think of the nights I lay beside you aching with desire but telling myself you needed time to get over DeBourgnon's attack. Now it seems I should have been less concerned with your feelings and more with my own!"

A mercurial glitter flared deep within his eyes. All restraint gone, he hauled her against him, heedless for the moment of her weaker body. Roanna struggled vainly. Prudence warned her she had better put some distance between herself and her outraged husband, but his overwhelming strength would not permit it

Lean, brown fingers tangled in the neckline of her tunic. The thin silk gave way shrilly, falling open to fully expose the honeyed length of her body. His molten gaze fell like a burning brand on the soft fullness of her breasts, her narrow waist and the ripe swell of her hips. Fear splintered through her as she saw his anger turn abruptly to lust

Twisting desperately, she tried to break free. But his arms were steel bands holding her remorselessly in place. In her struggles, her soft thighs brushed against him. Too late she realized her efforts had only aroused him further.

A low, triumphant growl sounded in his massive chest as he lifted her as easily as a feather. Roanna did not have time to take a breath before she was carried across the room and dumped unceremoniously in the center of the bed.

Colin towered over her. His silvered stare never left the naked loveliness before him. Quickly he stripped off his chain mail and sword. They fell to the floor with a thud, where they were quickly joined by his tunic and loincloth.

The sight of his exposed maleness finally broke through the paralysis of shock that had held Roanna motionless. For the first time, she knew only terror at the thought of being taken by him. His huge, pulsating manhood would hurt her badly.

Frantically, she tried to escape across the bed. But Colin was too quick for her. He dragged her back easily, his weight crushing her into the mattress. A sinewy leg thrown over her soft, slender limbs pinned her in place. Her arms were pulled tautly above her head. One large hand manacled both her wrists while the other moved over her insolently.

His voice was low and thick with anguish as he muttered, "Oh, no, my lady! I have a great thirst which may well take the rest of this day and night to slake. If you have any care for yourself, you will lie still and let me do as I wish."

Roanna had no choice but to obey. Never before had she known the full, unbridled extent of his strength. She was trapped under him, small and helpless. Not even DeBourgnon's attempted rape had made her feel so vulnerable.

Yet beyond her fear was another, even stronger emotion. In the moment before Colin's mouth came down on hers, she caught a glimpse of pain in his eyes, so raw and intense as to stun her. Dimly, it occurred to her that she had done him a terrible disservice. Rather than believing him guilty of such base behavior, she should have trusted him enough to speak openly of her concerns. Instead, she had failed in this, her first test as his wife.

As the acknowledgment of her own part in what was happening burned into her, her last efforts at resistance dissolved. Though it might already be too late, she could at least offer him the comfort of her body.

Yet even as she yielded, Colin's hard, demanding touch softened and grew gentle. He could no more hurt her than he could rip out his own heart His hand moved tenderly down the silken column of her throat to cup her breast He took the full heaviness of it in his palm, squeezing lightly, before his fingers closed round the rosy peak which tightened instantly at his caress. A low groan broke from Colin as her response shattered the last of his anger.