Slaves of Love (5 page)
Authors: Opal Carew
Will’s brows rose. “Wakefield, eh? I know Henry Wakefield has a daughter.” He swirled the wine in his goblet.
“That’s right,” Jordan chimed in. “In her twenties. Pretty thing, from what I’ve heard, but he pretty much keeps her under wraps. Planning to make a profitable marriage, I’ll wager.”
“How do you know of her?” Will asked.
“I stopped for water at Sersa’s pond, and I saw her there.”
The memory of her naked, glistening body flashed into his mind. Need pulsed through him, impossible to ignore. His jaw clenched.
“She obviously had an effect on you.”
Keern’s glance darted to Will, but relaxed at his brother’s amused expression.
“The woman is lovely to look upon, but she has the disposition of a devil,” Keern responded.
“That’s a Wakefield, all right.” Jenna poured more wine in his goblet and sat down across from him.
“The father’s a mean one,” Helena chimed in. “He treats his servants more like slaves, and we’ve heard of terrible cruelties.”
“Plus, he hates us,” Will added.
Keern glanced across at him. “Why?”
“Because he wants our land,” Jordan answered. “He’d love any excuse to wipe us off the face of the planet. But he knows the other landowners would band against him. He’s got far too hungry an eye as it is.”
“He’s always been hungry for land, ’tis true,” Helena said. “But you know, the reason he hates us is more personal. His wife used to come here a lot, needin’ to get away from his foul moods. Theirs was an arranged marriage, you know?”
“That’s right.” Jenna poured some more wine, then sat down beside Will. “The rumor is, he fell in love with her at first sight, and
his
father, who gave his son anything he asked for, arranged the marriage. Young Wakefield must have believed the woman would fall madly in love with him, but in truth, he frightened her with his aggressive ways.”
Will tipped his glass to his lips, then set it on the table. “I remember how, when I was young, she’d come to visit with her baby daughter.”
“Why don’t I remember any of this?” Keern asked.
Will leaned forward, a wide smile on his face, and tousled Keern’s hair as if he were a little boy. “Because, brother, you were barely three years old.”
Keern ran his fingers through his hair to smooth it back in place. “I still don’t see why he hates us.”
“Because,” Jenna said, “he believed she and your uncle were having an affair.”
Keern’s gaze jolted back to Will, who nodded.
“Uncle Jeb?” Keern could scarcely believe it. He didn’t remember his uncle well -- he’d disappeared when Keern was very young -- but from everything he’d ever heard about him, he’d believed his uncle to be an honorable man. Certainly not someone Keern would suspect of having an affair with another man’s wife.
Keern had always admired Uncle Jeb, especially his sense of adventure. Keern had followed his uncle’s example when choosing to travel across the stars, undaunted by the fact that everyone assumed Jeb had died on some exotic planet, since no one had ever heard from him again.
“I’m not saying he actually had an affair with her,” Will said. “Wakefield was jealous, domineering, and extremely possessive of his wife. She was actually afraid of him.” Anger flared in his eyes.
Jenna placed a hand on her husband’s arm and stroked gently. “Realize he loved this woman and she didn’t return his love. His ego would demand he find a reason to justify her not loving him. Another man was a simple solution.”
“And Uncle Jeb actually did love her.” At Will’s quiet words, everyone turned to stare at him. “He didn’t act on it, but I overheard our mother and father talking. They were convinced he loved her. I’m sure that’s why he left. He couldn’t bear to be so close to her and not be with her.”
“She died of
Gahdagha
flu soon after that,” Jenna added.
Helena leaned forward conspiratorially. “Or so they say.”
“Helena.” Jenna shook her head. “Those are just rumors.”
“True.” Helena’s fingers toyed with the stem of her goblet. “Some rumors say that Wakefield killed her. Others say that he sold her to the traders.”
Keern leaned back in his chair, disturbed by the turn of the conversation. “That doesn’t make sense. How could a man do that to his own wife?”
Jacob sighed heavily. “You really don’t know Henry Wakefield, cousin.”
The others nodded their heads. Keern’s gut twisted inside. With a father like that, no wonder Shena had learned to be so callous.
Will grinned, in contrast to the long faces around the table.
“I must admit, it would be a lovely irony if you and his daughter had taken a shine to each other and wound up in wedlock. Then our two lands would be joined, but not in the way he had hoped.”
Keern swallowed some wine, pushing aside heart-rending images of Shena joining hands with him in front of a flower-veiled altar, a delicate blush on her cheeks as she leaned toward him for the wedding kiss. A more vivid blush covering her entire body as they joined in the wedding bed. His body tightened, and he longed to feel her gentle curves again, but this time while thrusting into her body. He longed to make her completely and forever his.
Slamming those thoughts into the dark recesses of his mind, he plunked his glass onto the table.
“Talking about wedlock, shouldn’t we be discussing Jordan’s impending doom -- I mean, joining?”
The men roared in laughter under the glares of the women, then began a hearty discussion of the events to come.
* * * * *
Keern awoke with a start. Actually, with a jolting release. He became aware of a warm stickiness on his stomach.
Dehn’ra,
another dream about that witch of a woman.
He flung aside the covers and stormed to the window. Moonlight illuminated the rolling hills of unfamiliar land surrounding the manor of Jordan’s new family.
He raked his fingers through his hair.
Over the past four days, Keern had tried to keep his focus on his family and the wedding of his brother. There was much to keep him busy, but still he couldn’t keep visions of his beautiful wood nymph from his mind. How could she have turned out to be such a brittle, scheming woman?
Night after night, in the depths of his dreams, he felt her soft, white skin beneath his fingers, heard her delicious moans of pleasure, and he exploded in passion. And every morning, he awoke to wet evidence of his folly.
He had started to hate her, as much for his primal, loathsome longing as for her callous actions.
He would forget her. With time.
Today had been Jordan’s wedding day. Tomorrow, they’d be back on the road. Once he was home again, he would find a way to get Shena out of his mind.
* * * * *
Shena awoke with a start as someone ripped back her covers and hauled her out of bed. As her bleary vision focused, she realized the rough-handed man dragging her along the cold marble floor, barely waiting for her stumbling feet to keep up, was Bahrd, the most brutal of her father’s men. He always leered at her as though waiting for the opportunity to strip her naked and violate her. The skin on her arms pebbled in goose bumps, and her chest constricted so tightly she could barely breathe. Oh, God, had that opportunity arrived?
A semi-toothless grin claimed his face as his gaze raked across her, as though he read her thoughts.
“Yer father wants te see ye.”
Her anxiety did not diminish at that revelation. As he dragged her down the corridor, she wondered if this had anything to do with Keern.
Four painful days ago, she had left Keern with that dreadful, but necessary, lie. She’d felt violently ill as she’d raced home. She’d stolen up to her room and curled into a ball on her bed, sobbing.
Over the next few days, the image of Keern’s handsome face, filled with loathing, remained burned in her memory.
Yet in her dreams, he bound her in a web of sexual desire and took out his anger in beautiful bouts of passion.
Bahrd pushed open the door to her father’s study, and she cringed as he shoved her inside.
“There you are, daughter.”
Her father sat in the tall brown leather chair behind his shiny ebony desk. He removed his glasses and placed them on the book he’d been reading. A fire blazed in the marble fireplace, radiating a warm glow. He rubbed his well-trimmed beard, then tapped his long, elegant fingers on the desktop as he watched her, light dancing across the navy silk of his vest.
His composure didn’t fool her. In his ice-grey eyes, she saw danger. He hid it well from others, but she had learned to read the intensity of his anger within the calm depths.
“I’ve heard you’ve been meeting with a man.”
She remained silent, unable to utter a word. How had he found out about Keern?
He pushed himself to his feet and strode toward her. “You were seen at Sersa’s pond with a man who claimed you were his woman. Is this true?”
She glanced at the floor.
He struck her swiftly, a bone-jarring blow to the jaw, knocking her off her feet. Pain jolted through her hands as they hit the hard stone floor, breaking her fall.
“Is it true?” The tone of his words, strung taut as a tightrope, demanded an answer.
She straightened her arms, pushing herself onto her hip, legs curled to one side.
“No, not exactly. I --”
He kicked her in the ribs, knocking her to the ground again. Blinding pain shot through her, and she could barely suck in enough air to keep from passing out.
“Not exactly?” he sneered. “Does that mean you’re
not exactly
a virgin anymore?”
“I am,” she choked, then coughed, trying to catch her breath. “I am still a virgin.”
His eyes narrowed as he glared down at her. “Even if you are, Drakemont doesn’t believe it. He’ll never wed you now.”
Her father had been intending to marry her off to Reginald Drakemont? He was a foul-smelling miser of a man. Cruel and demanding. He frightened her almost as much as her father.
He kicked her again. Tears welled in her eyes from the exploding pain in her chest.
He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, forcing her to look into his eyes. Into torrents of rage.
“I wanted that marriage. I wanted the platinum he offered for you and the alliance between our families. Our combined forces could have dominated the entire region.”
He released her with such force, her face smacked against the cold, hard floor. Pain lanced through her cheekbone, and she shuddered as she suppressed a sob.
“Now you’ve ruined it.” He strode away from her, then stood staring out the window, his hands clasped behind his back. “I’m told the man you were with was a Herrington. Is that also true, daughter?”
She pushed herself to her knees. “I’d never seen him before, but he protected me from some soldiers who came along.”
“Drakemont’s soldiers. Who I’m sure you had no reason to fear.”
So that’s how he knew. One of them must have recognized her.
“Was his name Herrington?” he demanded.
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t lie to me. Right now, your usefulness to me is close to nil since everyone believes you are soiled. If you lie to me about this, then I must believe you’re lying to me about being a virgin.”
His voice grew very quiet. “That means I have no choice but to follow through on my promise.”
He glanced toward Bahrd, who stood at the door, grinning at her. She trembled, remembering the young housekeeper. Remembering Bahrd violently thrusting into her. Remembering her father’s promise that she would suffer the same fate should she ever lose her virginity -- and her usefulness to him.
“You have one more chance to answer truthfully. Was his name Herrington?”
She hesitated, and he dragged her to her feet and propelled her toward the door and the sneering lout. Oh, God, no. The thought of those rough brutes and what they’d do to her ... She couldn’t ...
“Yes,” she cried, hating herself for her weakness. “His name was Herrington.”
He released her arm and she fell to the floor.
“Those
dehn’rad
Herringtons will pay dearly for this.”
She quivered at his words. Saying anything to try to help Keern would only make matters worse. If her father suspected she had feelings for the man, he would relish the revenge even more. She could only pray Keern would survive her father’s wrath.
He shoved her at Bahrd. “Keep an eye on her until I get back. I don’t want her talking to anyone.”
Bahrd wrenched her arm from her father’s grasp and dragged her through the door.
* * * * *
“For heaven’s sake, Keern. Go ride ahead. Your restlessness is unsettling the horses.”
Keern glanced at the carriage carrying the women, then back to Will riding horseback beside him. What if thieves attacked?
“But if there’s trouble --”
“There won’t be. Even if there were, we could handle it.”
Keern nodded to Will, thankful for his brother’s instincts. His brothers and cousin, the carriage driver, and the five soldiers accompanying them should be able to handle any danger that came their way.