Rexanne Becnel (41 page)

How could she not have recognized him as her one true love, that very first day at the priory? How could she have ignored all the signs that were now so clear to her? Her heart raced under the impact of her newfound understanding, and a spreading warmth coiled up from her stomach. In confusion she lowered her eyes.

“Is that a yes or a no?” he asked quietly so that only she could hear.

“Oh, um, ’tis a … ’tis a yes. Yes, I will meet them now.” She took the arm he offered, then moved alongside him as he slowly made a circuit of the room. A heated flush stained her cheeks as her hand rested upon his hard-muscled arm. This was her husband. She was his wife.

And she loved him.

But as yet they had not lain in their marriage bed. Though she tried to drive that inappropriate thought away, she was not entirely successful.

Operating in a bit of a fog, Joanna greeted the seneschal again, and the chief steward, the marshal, the chamberlain, and the cooks. There were several inside maids and the kitchen help also.

“The shepherds, goatherd, dairy maid, and tanner are about their business. As for the guards, Kell is even now with Oxwich’s captain, seeing to the regular defenses,” Rylan explained, once their circle of the hall was done. “As we leave today, however, those introductions must wait.” He gave her a questioning look, as if he thought she might relent.

In truth Joanna had forgotten in the past few minutes how much she abhorred Oxwich. She was on the arm of the man she loved, and the newness of that discovery yet colored her thoughts. Added to that, so many of the faces were familiar to her. So many of them had smiled at her, relieved to have a master and mistress who meant to see to their needs. They were friendly and welcoming, and Joanna had responded in kind. But now she remembered, and the old horror came back. They could not truly start their marriage until they left this hated place. Only then could her love be given without reserve.

She bolstered her courage. “You need not eat the meal with me. I know you have business here. I will see to my own needs and prepare to depart.” Her words were poised and controlled. But then her composure slipped. “Do not linger overlong,” she implored, staring up into his dark eyes.

His hand tightened on hers, but he did not speak to the fears she could not disguise. “I have fealties to receive and several judicial matters to resolve. If you will see to our provisions, we will be away soon after the sun’s zenith.”

Joanna consoled herself with that promise. Yet as the morning dragged on and her solitary task was complete, she found herself drawn more and more toward the stairs and the chamber at the top.

That kitten had gone up there, she fretted. She did not want any cats in her mother’s room. Yet though she paced the hall, glancing unwillingly up the shadowed stairway, she could not bring herself to move any nearer. When Rylan left the hall—something regarding one man’s milk cow being injured by another man’s dog—Joanna wrung her hands in dismay. Would he never finish! Then she heard the piercing yowl of a cat and without warning two more of the animals streaked into the hall, followed just as quickly by a flustered maid.

“Out, ye damnable creatures! Begotten of the devil are ye!” She brandished her broom at the disappearing pair then nearly dropped it when she spied Joanna.

“Oh, milady. ’Tis sorry I am to disturb ye …”

“Wait!” Joanna halted her before she could back out of the hall. “Wait. Are there …” She gestured in the direction the two cats had taken. “Are there so many cats here?”

The woman straightened from her timid stance. “Oh, aye, milady. We’ve not a rat or mouse to be found. But now the cats are a pest.”

“Why are there so many?”

“Oh, ’Twas the Lady Mertice. She liked ’em around ’er. Anyone who hurt a cat caught the rough side of ’er temper.”

“Is there …” Joanna hesitated, trying to ignore the imp that drove her, but it was no use. “Is there an old cat here? Gray and white. With large yellowish eyes?”

“A tom?”

“No, not a tomcat.”

“Well, there’s lots of gray ones. In fact, most of ’em
is
gray somewhere or ’nother. But the only one as is gray and white
and
very old that I know of is Minnou.”

“Lady Minnou?” Joanna whispered the question.

“Aye—she’s old and touchy now, but once long ago she was the little miss’s kitten. Cook says she treated her like a baby, always singin’ to her—oh!” The maid’s eyes widened as she remembered just who Joanna was. “She was
yours,
wasn’t she?”

Joanna did not answer. She only turned to stare up the stairwell once more.

In the uncomfortable silence, the maid shifted from one foot to the other. “If you’re lookin’ for ’er, ’tis more than likely she’s up there.”

Joanna nodded and took a shaky breath. She heard the maid mumble something about sweeping the cobbled forecourt, but she didn’t care. As if an ice-cold hand drew her forward, she shivered, then stepped nearer the stairs.

It was only a room, she told herself. And only an old cat. Yet she would rather have done anything else than mount those stairs. Still, something greater than her fear drove her on.

When she finally stood before the half-opened door, at first she just peered in. The same bed was there, and a familiar-looking chest. But the hangings around the bed were new and the rug before it was different. She could not see the entire space, however, so with a last spurt of courage, she swung the door wider and stepped inside.

As the sun was high, very little light came directly into the room. But there was a streak of sunlight upon the wide windowsill, and it was there the cat lay. She was seated neatly, her front paws folded back upon her chest, her chin tucked low as if she slept in the lulling warmth she’d found. But her eyes were not closed. Her wide unblinking stare was fixed on the woman in the doorway.

The emotions that rushed through Joanna were far too numerous to count. Fear choked her throat even as an overpowering sorrow consumed her. Yet also did she feel a terrible awareness, as if she’d come across a friend she’d lost so long ago that she’d forgotten her. But now she remembered, and with that memory came an outpouring of unbearable emotions. Like a torrent they came: the anguish of her terrible loss; the bitter loneliness of abandonment; and worst of all, the years of love that had been held back within her own heart. She’d had no one to love—neither mother nor father. It was the pain of that pent-up desire to love another and be loved in return that brought her to her knees.

The cat started when Joanna sagged to the floor but did not look away. Silent tears coursed down Joanna’s face, a storm tide of all she’d held inside for so long. Then from her girlhood came the rhyme she’d sung those many years ago, lulling a favorite pet to sleep.

“Be not ‘A’ too amorous; ‘B’ too bold nor—” Her voice failed on a sob but she wiped her tears away with her knuckles, her blurry gaze fixed all the while on the aged cat. The animal came to its feet and arched its body once. Then, still wary, it leaped down from the window and approached Joanna.

“Be not ‘A’ too amorous,” Joanna began again in barely more than a whisper. “‘B’ too bold; ‘C’ too cruel—” She stopped when the cat paused before her. Her hands lay in her lap, clenched in a knot, until she very slowly extended one to the animal. The old pet sniffed Joanna’s hand then, as if expressing its approval, turned its head and rubbed against her fingertips.

It was all that was needed to break down the final walls of Joanna’s reserve. Fresh tears started in her eyes and she reached for her old cat, caressing her reassuringly. “Lady Minnou, Lady Minnou,” she whispered heartbrokenly through her tears. “How could she have done it? How could she have left me?”

Too wrapped up in her private misery, Joanna was not at first aware that Rylan had entered the room. Her hands clung to the now-purring cat and she pressed her damp face into its warm glossy fur. “Oh, Lady Minnou.”

Then Rylan’s hands gently smoothed across her shoulders and she felt his lips against her hair.

“Don’t cry, Joanna.” He knelt behind her, holding her against the solid bulk of his chest, folding her into his embrace much as she had pulled her old cat into her own. “I cannot bear it if you cry.”

Somehow she was turned and in the process Lady Minnou slipped away. But Joanna had a new comforter now, one that was not tied to an unhappy past but instead promised her a better future.

“You needn’t speak of it,” Rylan whispered as he cupped her face with one hand and pressed her close to his heart. “We’ll leave here and you’ll never have to think of it again—”

But the floodgates had been opened. As her tears spilled forth, so did the words—and the hurt she’d bottled up for so long. “Why did she leave me?” she sobbed against his chest. “Why did he have to hurt her that way?”

She felt Rylan’s arms tighten and felt his lips moving in her hair. “There’s no understanding now what went on between your parents, love. ’Tis best resigned to the past.”

Joanna gasped for breath and struggled for words. “He … he raped her.” She swallowed hard, then shuddered in horror at the memory. “He had wanted a … a son. But he only got me.”

“My God,” he muttered. Then he tilted her face up toward his. “Don’t ever fear such from me, Joanna. I want you, but only if you are willing. And I’ll rejoice in our daughters as well as our sons.” His eyes locked with hers, searing her with the power of his feelings, and that gave her the courage to go on.

“He spoke another man’s name. I don’t remember what, but the man had died.” A sob caught in her throat. “Then after he left …” She trailed off and her eyes veered to the window. “After he left, she jumped.”

She sat there frozen, remembering every ghastly detail of that day. The sky outside had been a mauve blue. The cry of wheeling grebes echoed in her ears. But her mother’s leap had been utterly silent.

Then Rylan turned her face away from the window and forced her to look only at him.

“I am here for you now, Joanna. The past is—” He shook his head, searching for words. “It’s past. It’s over. We have only our future now. And I promise you, love—I promise you—I’ll make it a good one—”

His words ended abruptly when her hands caught his face and brought it down to meet her kiss. Her emotions were too raw for words, too affected by his fervent vow for her to respond in any other way. She held on to him and his promise, searching his mouth with her own, giving herself over to him completely.

As if he gave her a sustenance she’d craved for far too long, Joanna’s kiss went on and on. She was starving for his touch, but it was more than a physical need. Her heart hungered for him. Her soul yearned for him. It was a raw need, as basic as her very need to breathe. She could not pretend or hide her emotions any longer.

His mouth broke away from hers, and they both gasped for air. “Joanna?” His tone was both questioning and confused.

Her answer was to move her frantic kisses to his corded neck and farther down to the hollow of his throat. She clutched at the neckline of his tunic, desperate to be as close to him as possible. She needed his love both for her burning body and her aching heart. Could he ever give both to her?

Then he gathered her in his arms and she had her answer. “Ah, my sad sweet girl. I would do anything to put a smile on your face. Let me take you away from this place.”

“No, not yet.” Joanna stared up into his darkened eyes. Up into the face she had come to love despite her fear to do so. “Will you ever … Can you … can you love me?”

His brow creased in concern even as his grasp on her tightened. “Here? I am desperate to make love with you. But I thought—”

Joanna shook her head and her eyes filled with doubt. Yet still she forced herself on. “Can you ever
love
me—in your heart? As I love you,” she finished in a low voice that trembled with feeling.

His eyes burned into hers, filled with emotions too numerous and too strong for her to name. Then he smiled and hugged her fiercely. “I thought you knew. I—” He shook his head and laughed. Then he pulled a little away so that their faces were on a level with one another. “I traded away a veritable kingdom to have you, Joanna. Did that tell you nothing of how I felt?”

She stared at him through eyes that sparkled with tears. But this time she dared to hope they might be tears of happiness. “I … I would hear the words.”

His face grew serious at that. Though they yet knelt upon the floor, neither of them was aware of their surroundings. He smoothed her hair back from her face then wiped a tear away with the pad of his thumb. “I love you, Joanna. I need you for my wife. For my life.” Then he smiled faintly. “Will you say the words to me once more?”

Joanna’s heart pounded an unsteady rhythm in her throat and her mouth seemed unable to respond. But as the shine in his eyes turned into a heated gleam, she finally mustered her wits.

“I love you,” she whispered, as wonder filled her entire being and lifted her up in a cloud of happiness.

“And I love you,” he answered back while his eyes wandered her face. “I love to fill my hands with your hair,” he continued, doing exactly as he said. “I love the golden glow in your green eyes and the way your brow creases when you would argue a point with me.”

“I am not arguing now,” she said, tugging on his tunic while a smile took over her face.

“No.”

Suddenly the air seemed almost to vibrate with their powerful feelings. She was filled with love and consumed with desire all at one time. Rylan too was clearly swept up in the same strong tide, for he abruptly rose to his feet, drawing her up as well. With one hand he pushed the door closed. Then he swept her up high in his arms.

“I cannot wait, Joanna. Not one minute longer.”

With her arms flung around his neck she clung to him. “Nor can I.”

Outside the call of birds came through the open window. But within the master’s chamber the world beyond was of no importance. Joanna cared only that her husband loved her and that now he would make love to her. Girdle, gown, kirtle, and hose—her garments all were torn away and discarded alongside a pile of his own clothes. Then he lay beside her on the high bed, stretched out in all his male beauty. The creak of the bed ropes brought a vague memory of angry words and a woman’s weeping to her mind, but it was quickly dispelled. When Rylan rolled to cover her with the heated length of his body, she knew nothing but him and the fire he stoked within her. But this time it was a fire of both her loins and her heart. And when he kissed her, the two joined in one fiery conflagration.