The Beauty Bride (The Jewels of Kinfairlie) (13 page)

It
was not so bad a wager she had made, in trading her life on the seas for a life
with Tynan. Though she would miss the journeys to foreign ports, it was a
relief to sleep fully, knowing that none came to assault her in the night.

Rosamunde
stretched a toe across the expanse of the bed, prepared to celebrate their
mutual agreement again, but only found cold linens. She shivered, then opened
one eye.

Though
she was alone in bed, she was not alone in the chamber. Tynan was fully
dressed, in deepest indigo as was his custom. His hair was damp, his back
toward her. He faced the leaping flames in the fireplace, arms folded across
his chest, his handsome features cast into profile. She saw the silver at his
temples, the lines from laughter beside his eyes, and her heart softened with
the certainty that he was her love and her mate.

“You
should return to bed, that we might finish what was begun.” Rosamunde spoke
softly, but Tynan jumped all the same.

Almost
as if he felt guilt about some matter.

Rosamunde
was immediately awake. She sat up, not troubling to cover her bare breasts, and
could not fail to note how Tynan simply frowned into the fire.

He
cleared his throat, as he oft did when he knew his words would not be welcomed.
“If you would be so kind, I would not have you found here when the household
awakens.”

A
chill slipped down Rosamunde’s spine, but she feigned misunderstanding. “Oh,
there is no reason to worry.” She abandoned the warm bed with reluctance, then
stretched like a cat. She shook her hair over her shoulders, knowing that he
watched her covertly. The desire between them was impossible to ignore, after
all. “All know by this time that we are not half-cousins. It is the talk of all
that I share no blood with the Lammergeier family who raised me.” She laughed
under her breath as she donned a gossamer chemise, then a silken robe rich with
embroidery. “If only because it rouses such astonishment that Gawain
Lammergeier could have shown such compassion as to raise an unknown babe as his
own.”

“So
it is,” he agreed coolly. “But I would still have you return to the women’s
chamber.”

Rosamunde
held his gaze, hoping she hid her newfound fear from him well. “Of what import
if I am found in your bed? Most know that I have shared it many a time in the
past twelve years.” Rosamunde paused, then named the crux of the matter. “And
all will know as soon as our nuptials are announced.”

Tynan
pivoted to face the fire again, his shoulders stiff, and Rosamunde knew, she
knew what he would say.

“There
will be no nuptials between the two of us.”

Her
anger surprised her only by its vehemence. “What is this? All these years we
have loved, and understood that the sole obstacle between us was my trade in
relics!”

“True.”

“And
now I have agreed to surrender that trade, to sate you. We will auction the
best of the remaining relics, by this agreement.”

“True.”

“I
released my crew. I sold my ship! I relinquished all of the elements of my
trade that I might settle at Ravensmuir. With you.”

Tynan
looked ill at ease. “You have misunderstood my intent. We have no future
together, here or elsewhere.”

“You
cur! You might have mentioned as much last evening!” Rosamunde crossed the
floor and seized his shoulder, compelling him to face her. “You might have
recalled such a choice afore seeking your pleasure anew!”

He
had the grace to color, but she knew from his eyes that he would not change his
thinking. “It is true that I served you poorly, Rosamunde.” His tenderness took
the sting from her temper, and she hated that he possessed this much power over
her.

Tynan
lifted a tendril of her golden red hair between his finger and thumb and rubbed
it. He met her gaze. “You are a madness in my very veins. I could not resist
one last night together.”

“And
you knew I would not grant it to you, had you been man enough to tell me the
truth.” Rosamunde did not hide her bitterness as she snatched the curl of her
hair from his grasp. “We had an agreement!”

He
shook his head once. “I never vowed to wed you.”

It
was true. Rosamunde cast her memory over their discussions and her innards went
cold. He had never made such a pledge - she had simply assumed that such a man
as he would not continue their torrid lovemaking without the formality of
nuptial vows. Neither had she imagined that he would forgo the pleasure they
granted each other.

Clearly,
she had erred. It was as had oft been said of her - she might be able to see
into the future, to see what others could not, but on occasion, she did not
discern what was evident to all.

“Then
I shall have my part of the legacy in Ravensmuir’s caverns,” she insisted. “I
will withdraw a part of the store offered for auction, afore it is sold this
day.”

Tynan
shook his head. “You have no legacy here at Ravensmuir.” His gaze filled with
chilly resolve. “You are not kin to the Lammergeier.”

Rosamunde
gaped at him for a long moment in silence, so great was her fury. “You wretch!
How dare you demand the surrender of all of value in my life, then cast me from
your gates like so much rubbish?”

“You
will fend well enough for yourself. We both know the truth of that.” He turned
away, and Rosamunde resisted the urge to spit upon him for his faithlessness.
“Make haste. Someone will arrive shortly to light the fires.”

“You
might at least tell me why. What has changed?”

Tynan
glanced over his shoulder. His gaze danced over her and Rosamunde took some
satisfaction from the fact that he could not hide the admiration in his gaze.
Tynan always regarded her as if she were a rare marvel, and she felt like one
beneath his caress.

She
had felt like one, at least, afore this morning.

“You
can never be Lady of Ravensmuir, Rosamunde. It would not be fitting.” He turned
and walked away from her then, and she wondered if he did not trust himself to
keep from touching her.

“Whyever
not?”

His
quick glance was impatient. “Marriages are made for alliance, not for pleasure.
Wedding you would not secure my borders or bind my neighbors to me.”

“And
now that the relics will be sold that stain your repute by their very presence,
I will not bring you wealth.” She spoke with heat, letting him see how his
decision stung.

“Rosamunde...”

She
backed away from him, for he knew too well how to make her forget her anger.
“Do not try to soften your cruelty with sweet words!” She spoke then on
impulse, naming her fear, hoping she was mistaken. “Doubtless your thinking
would be different, were I young enough to offer you the prospect of a son.”

There
was silence between them, silence that told Rosamunde she had guessed aright.
She felt sickened then, but she would show him no weakness.

She
had been cheated, by no fault of her own, cheated of love by a tale told for
her own protection. That it was a false tale, one revealed too late for her to
offer children to her lover, and withheld out of kindness by her beloved foster
parents, made the revelation no more easily borne.

Tynan
caught his breath and halted his pursuit of her. He stared at the floor, as if
fighting to find the words, then met her gaze anew. His voice was taut, and
though she saw that this choice cost him dearly, she would not make matters
easier for him. “You should know that I do not mean only to train my nephew
Malcolm: I will raise him as my son and make him heir of Ravensmuir.”

“So
you have no need of a wife at all, let alone one of such sorry repute as me.”

Tynan
threw out his hands. “Can you not see that it is your own history at root? You
admitted Rhys FitzHenry to the auction for Madeline’s hand! What seized your
wits?”

“I
would wager that she will be happier wed to him than to one of those pathetic
fools invited by Alexander.”

“My
niece is to be wed to a man charged with treason! You must appreciate the
damage to her reputation, and her very welfare may be endangered.” Tynan shoved
a hand through his hair and paced the chamber. “I have considered this all the
night long...”

“Not
all the night long.”

He
glared at her. “Most of the night, then. I cannot let this wedding proceed.
Alexander must return the coin of this Rhys...”

“Rhys
FitzHenry.” Rosamunde’s blood simmered. How dare Tynan not ask for her opinion
of Rhys? How dare he not ask what she knew of this man, or even why she had
admitted him after he had begged a word with her upon his arrival at
Ravensmuir? She was the sole person in this hall who knew Rhys. How dare Tynan
assume that Rosamunde would willingly endanger her own god-daughter, by
tethering the girl to a rogue of no repute?

She
stubbornly held her tongue, knowing that Tynan did not deserve to know that his
conclusions were incorrect. Let him make a fool of himself!

“I
shall insist that the wedding be halted. Madeline will wed, but not to a man
wanted for treason. I owe more than this to my brother, Roland. I owe more to
his children than to make such a mockery of their nuptials and futures.” Tynan
shook his head. “I cannot imagine how you persuaded me to participate in such
madness. No man of dignity would auction a niece!”

“Because
the neighbors might not approve?”

He
turned on her then, furious as he had not been yet. “Do not mock me, Rosamunde!
I must live among these people and rely upon their alliances in times of woe.”

“You
have no such obligation to remain. You only say as much because you love
Ravensmuir more than any living soul!”

“I
cannot merely sail away to a more friendly port. I cannot treat every challenge
of life as a jest. I cannot make my own rules, discarding the law of the land
when it does not suit my desires.”

“Is
that how you believe I live?”

“Is
it not evident that you do?”

“At
least I am alive! At least I can yet take a risk, or a wager that might result
in my favor. Do you claim Ravensmuir or does it claim you?”

“I
will never leave Ravensmuir.”

“But
you will cast away everything and everyone else, if necessary. Who is the fool
in this, Tynan?”

He
said nothing, which was answer enough.

Rosamunde
advanced upon Tynan. “I thought you more than this, Tynan. I thought you a man
who did not care for the whispering of his neighbors.” She glared at him. “I
thought you were your father’s son.”

Their
gazes locked, each knowing well enough that Tynan’s father had claimed an
unconventional bride, for the sake of love alone.

Then
Tynan sighed and looked away. He looked so discouraged that Rosamunde was
tempted to reach for him, to lay a hand upon his shoulder.

“I
am a man who learned the price of his father’s choices, and do not welcome
their burden upon my own shoulders,” he said, sounding a thousand years old.

Rosamunde
hardened her heart against him. Let Tynan bear his own burdens from this day
forth. That, after all, was the choice he had made.

Some
sorry soul knocked then upon the portal.

* * *

Chapter Five

Tynan
gave Rosamunde a sharp look, but she held her ground.

“I
am here, Laird of Ravensmuir, and I will remain here,” she said, scoffing at
his evident disapproval. “You are less than I had imagined you to be, if you
care so much for rumor in your own hall.”

“Rosamunde,”
he growled, but she did not let him continue.

“You
and your expectation that I should shirk from the truth of what I have done are
welcome to find the way to hell.” She cast herself into the fine chair that he
favored. She dangled her legs over one side of it, fairly daring Tynan to
comment upon the visibility of her bare shins and feet. The chair was in a beam
of sunlight and Rosamunde knew the light would make her hair look afire. “I
intend to remain here, in full view of whosoever troubles his lord so early in
the day. Let them guess what deeds have been done in this chamber and bed in
hours past.”

“You
cannot.”

“I
will, unless you forcibly remove me.”

“It
is sorely tempting,” Tynan said, sparing a significant glance to the window.

Rosamunde
smiled, her heart as cold as ice. “Be assured, my lord, that dead courtesans
arouse more gossip than live ones.”

There
was a cup of wine left within reach. Rosamunde picked it up with a cavalier
gesture, held Tynan’s furious gaze, and drank of it lustily. She licked her
lips, opened the neckline of her robe so that the curve of her breast was
visible, and fluttered her eyelashes at the very vexed man before her. “Do you
not mean to answer the door, my lord?”

Tynan’s
jaw set, and he raised a finger toward her. His eyes flashed and she was glad
to see that some fire yet lurked in his veins. But it was not enough for her,
not anymore. She wanted all of him, she wanted to be acknowledged openly as his
mate, she wanted the security of a permanent abode.