Lost Love (3 page)

She walked over to the table and returned with his razor. She went to hand it to him and he placed his large hand on her wrist. "I wish thee to shave me."

She gasped. "But I hath never shaved a man! What if I cut thee?"

"Cut me and know the consequences."

His look was fierce, and she relived the spanking from yesterday. Her breathing grew shallow, and she licked her lips nervously. "Very well."

She placed the sharp blade against his cheek and gently scraped downwards. The hair came away easily, and she exhaled a breath. Before long she had scraped all the hair off, leaving him free of beard and moustache, having managed to nick not one bit of skin. Satisfied with her work, she cleaned the blade in the water and put it back on the table. It wasn't until she turned back to look at him from a distance that she froze in shock.

No longer was it Lord John of Terryn staring back at her, but in his place was Ulric Griffin.

"Wherefore…" was all she managed to stammer.

"Aye, my dearest, sweetest, devious little Arabella. It is I, Ulric Griffin, and I am come to seek my revenge!"

Arabella stared back at the man before her, hardly daring to believe what she could see. But see it she did, with her very own eyes. It was her beloved Ulric.

"Ulric!" she breathed. He had filled out since last she saw him, and his face was harder than she remembered, but it was definitely him. Mayhap more handsome now than ever.

He eyed her steadily. "Aye, but thee will answer only to Lord John of Terryn now. Ulric Griffin died the day I was banished. Thou will never mention that name again!"

"But wherefore didst thee not reveal thy name to my father…and to me?" Vaguely, in her daze, she remembered the word revenge. "Thou hath come for revenge…against whom?"

"Thee, milady. As thee denied me love…I too will deny thee."

She quickly looked away as he stood up, the water sluicing down his large body. Where once she had yearned to see him bathe, now she averted her gaze, shocked beyond reason at this new revelation.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw him reach for a large towel, wrapping it around his naked torso. She turned to stare at him. "I didst not intend to deny thee love, for Mirabelle never wanted thee—she merely played with thee. It was I that was in love with thee."

He snorted with disgust. "Thee! That was the just the longings of a child, a spoiled child. Mirabelle didst love me, she had already declared so—something thee didst not hear and would have chosen to disregard in thy quest for thy own gain."

Arabella gasped. He truly hated her. She swallowed hard before responding. "I loved thee with all my heart. Aye, I was wrong lying to my father, a sin for which I paid dearly. Thee were taken from me, when all I desired was to hold thee."

"
All I desired!
Hear thyself, Arabella. 'Tis all about thee. For once, thou should hath thought upon the consequences of thy actions, for thee hath ruined my life." He settled her with a dark gaze. "But now I own thee, and I will see thee suffer for these years I hath spent in exile."

"But Ulric!"

"Desist! My name is John and thee will address me as such." He threw down his towel and shrugged on a long shirt. "Take thy bath and then get to bed. The night hath been long—'tis best thee take some rest now." He walked to the door. Clasping the latch on the door, he turned to her once more. "I will not stay in this chamber, for I hath no desire to sleep next to the woman I abhor!"

He left the chamber and slammed the door shut behind him. Arabella stood there in a daze. All these years she'd longed to see his face, hear his voice, and yet now she had, she wished with all her heart that she had not. A single tear rolled down her cheek, and she wiped it away angrily. She would not waste tears on him; he did not deserve them.

The boy he once was had vanished without a trace, leaving instead a bitter, angry man. And the worst thing of all was that his anger was all directed towards her.

A tentative knock came on the door and Esme popped her head around. "I hath come to assist thee, milady."

Arabella put on a brave face and blinked away her tears. "Come in, Esme."

With the maid's help, she undressed and slipped into the enveloping warmth of the bath. She had soon washed away the grime from travelling and enrobed in a fine linen nightgown she crawled beneath the coverlet. Within moments she fell into an exhausted sleep.

* * *

"Milady?
Milady?
" Arabella awoke to Esme touching her shoulder softly. "Lord John hath asked that thee join him for supper."

Arabella blinked wearily. Her head was still muddled from sleep, but even so she remembered how Ulric…nay John…had looked at her when last she saw him. She shivered and closed her eyes.

"Art thou unwell, milady?" Esme asked, a look of concern passing over her face.

"Nay, nay. I am a little unsettled by the long journey, 'tis all. Prithee help me dress and I will take supper with my husband."

My husband
. She snorted under her breath. Husband indeed. He cared naught for her and would see her suffer for a child's mistake. Well fie on him. She would prove to him that he was wrong about Mirabelle. Mayhap he would be of a more kindly disposition once he knew the truth.

Mirabelle had married Merek as planned that summer. She cared not a jot that Ulric had been banished from Arnscroft. The moment he had departed, he was gone from her mind. Arabella had been the one left to carry the guilt of what she'd done, longing to see him again and put things right. But it was never to be. Her love still lingered for him, and no knight that came courting was good enough, until her father had deemed it necessary to intervene and marry her off to Lord John. If only her father knew what he had done!

Mayhap, if she got word to him, he could save her from Ulric's wrath? Surely he could get the King to intervene and annul the marriage—especially as it had been unconsummated. Feeling lighter of heart, she slipped into the dress that Esme had for her and waited impatiently whilst she laced the back.

"Esme, couldst thee arrange for a note to be sent to my father? I wouldst let him know I am well."

"Aye, milady. Any one of the castle knights would gladly take it for thee."

"Dost thou trust them, Esme, for I wouldst send the note without my husband's knowledge?"

She pulled a face. "Oh, I see. Mayhap it wouldst be better if I gave it to my brother. He lives not far from the castle and for a small coin wouldst do this for thee."

"Coin. Of course." She walked to her chest of drawers and opened the second drawer. Underneath her chemises she had placed a small pouch filled with gold coins her father had given her. Only it wasn't there. She searched and searched, but it was nowhere to be found.

"Esme, my money pouch hast gone! Who hath been in here that would steal it so?"

Esme shook her head. "Only thy husband and I, milady, and upon my own life, I didst not take it!"

Arabella stared hard at her and could see in her eyes that she spoke the truth. In which case, John had chosen to take it from her. Wherefore had he done such a thing?

Pursing her lips, she quickly made her way down to the great hall where she found him sipping wine in front of the fire.

"Ah, Arabella, I wondered when thee wouldst join me. Come, take a seat at the dais, supper will be served shortly." He stood up and towered over her tiny frame.

"Milord, hast thou taken my pouch of coins?" she demanded instantly.

He raised an eyebrow. "Aye, it is in my possession."

She placed her hands on her hips angrily. "Wherefore didst thou take something that doth not belong to thee? I demand that thee return it!"

"Thou demand? Nay, wife I own all that thee possess—thee hath no need of coin!"

"I do!"

"For what, may I ask?" His eyes bored into hers and she shifted uncomfortably.

What could she say? She didn't want him to know about the secret note she wanted to send to her father. Quickly, she thought of an excuse.

"I wouldst see Esme with a coin for her brother. He is unwell and in need of a physician."

"Truly? For I saw him only an hour ago, and he seemed as fit as a fiddle. How peculiar."

She flushed angrily.

He continued. "Tell Esme to bring him to the castle. Our own physician can see him—or dost thou tell a lie?"

"Give me my coins!" Arabella demanded angrily, losing patience.

"Nay."

"Damn thee!" She went to run off, but he grabbed her and drew her close. She stared up at him petulantly.

"I shall hath to erase this wayward trait of thine to lie at every given opportunity. Thou hast not even been here one full day, and yet already a lie has uttered forth from those pretty lips."

She curled her lips and sneered. "What dost thou expect, milord? Respect? Love? For thee shall hath neither! Thou should not hath taken what was not thine!"

"I shall take whatever I want, milady. Thou dost belong to me and so now doth thy worldly possessions. The sooner thee accepts that, the better."

His leaned down and captured her lips fiercely with his. She fought against him, pushing her small fists against his broad chest, but her strength was no match against his. His kiss deepened, and despite her resolve to hate him, she found herself responding. Her mouth opened and his tongue sought entrance. The sudden intimacy sent a wave of desire through her. It was as though she was transported back to the teenager she had once been, kissing the man she had so desired. She moaned huskily, as his lips dropped to her neck, his hands kneading her soft flesh through her dress.

Suddenly he stopped and pushed her away, keeping a distance betwixt them. "Thou art mine, Arabella, and I shall treat thee how I see fit. Thy coin remains in my hands, until I deem it necessary to return it to thee. Dost thou understand?"

"I understand thou art cruel! Shame on thee to treat me so!" She turned and ran towards the door, but he bellowed out. "
Guards!
"

Her exit was immediately barred by two burly castle guards. She backed away and turning back around, stared at him in disgust. "Is this how thee intends to treat me?"

"Aye. Until thee understand thy position in the household then thee will find thyself a prisoner!"

He walked over and grabbed her hand. "Now, come take supper with me."

* * *

John pulled her towards the dais and, making sure she was seated, handed her a platter of bread and cheese before picking up a flagon of wine.

"Wine?"

She nodded sullenly whilst he filled her goblet. "'Tis no good sulking, Arabella. Thou willst learn to obey my rule, for I will brook no disobedience. Thou art my wife, and I expect thee to behave as befits the lady of this castle." He fixed his gaze on her. "Do not think of defying me, for thee will regret it."

"Thou cannot expect me to obey thy every command!" she sneered.

"I do and thee will."

He watched the rapid rise and fall of her bosom, as she tried to quell her anger. There was no denying it. Arabella had blossomed into a beautiful young woman. Her hair was like spun silk and her skin akin to porcelain. If he did not hold such a grudge against her then mayhap he would have married her for her looks alone, but he had not.

He intended to make her life as miserable as his had been since leaving Arnscroft. For the first two years after his departure, he had either scavenged off the land or worked for coin travelling far afield. It had been hard, very hard. Then he had happened upon King Edward's camp in Halidon Hill. He had asked to join their ranks under the guise of John and after a quick assessment of his skills, he had been allowed to train with them until they deemed him ready to stand amongst them and fight as brothers.

Five years later, he had been given land in Terryn and a knighthood for services rendered. With plenty of coin, he had paid local builders to build him one of the finest castles in the county. When it was ready two years later, he decided that it was time to take a wife.

He rode back to Arnscroft in disguise. In the local village he asked about Mirabelle and was dismayed but not surprised to find her married these past nine years. Arabella, however, was still unwed, and that was when he hatched his plan to marry her.

She had ruined his life all those years ago—it was high time she paid for what she'd done.

Her father had been approachable, especially when he showed him proof of his land ownership and status. Aye, he had seemed quite eager to get rid of the wench. Would that he had been so certain if he had known his real identity!

It had seemed a little disconcerting to stand before the very man who had banished him all those years ago and have him converse as an equal. They had agreed the marriage, and Ulric had left before seeing Arabella.

Now she sat beside him as his wife. His to command. Hers to obey.

* * *

Arabella gulped back her wine and grimaced as the strong drink hit the back of her throat. This was not the fine wine she was used to at Arnscroft. She reached for the water and topped up the wine to at least make it palatable.

Whilst she drank, she lamented her situation more and more. How could she be expected to live with a man that detested her? She finished her meal in silence, and she arose slightly inebriated from her seat with the sole intention of seeking solace within her chamber. But John had other ideas. He placed a hand on her arm, stilling her movements. "Whither dost thou goest, wife?"

"I wish to retire," she replied.

"Nay, 'tis early and yet light. I wouldst show thee thy new home before darkness descends."

Without waiting for her reply, he steered her away from the table and stepping off the dais led her out of the hall. She felt tiny, as she fell into step next to him, and his hand on her elbow made her tremble, as differing emotions coursed through her. She should hate him, but part of her still yearned for his touch. Surely, somewhere within that beating heart lay her beloved Ulric. She would find him and rid him of John of Terryn for good.

John suddenly came to a stop in front of the stables outside in the bailey. "Marec needs help with the horses. I hath decided that this will be one of thy chores."