The Devil Claims a Wife (10 page)

Margaret bowed her head. ‘I’m sorry, Jane, but it is done. It’s all settled. You must understand why your father insisted on the earl doing the right thing by you. What has happened has become a joke among everyone in the vale. Your father has become a laughing stock. He will be indebted to you for this sacrifice you make on behalf of the family. You are an honour to the Lovet name.’

Was there an emphasis on the word ‘sacrifice’? Jane wondered. Her heart wrenched with pain and bitterness. Her father could rally no hope for the future, knowing his family faced nothing but bleakness unless she married Guy St Edmond. She clearly understood the importance her father set by the alliance to be forged with this union.

She swallowed hard as she faced her mother, unable to still the quavering weakness that hindered her voice. ‘You are right. I have no choice but to wed him. I will do what I must to help us all out of this dire situation. I will not allow my family to live in poverty—not when I have it in my power to put things right.’

Solemnly her mother embraced her, kissing
her cheek. ‘Thank you, Jane. God bless you. I know you are thinking of the good of the family.’

Jane bowed her head. Her mother was right. She was thinking of the family—but most of all she was thinking about herself.

Guy asked to speak to Jane in private before he left. With his narrow gaze trained on her, her father watched her go into the parlour and close the door. When she entered Guy made no move towards her. The impact of his gaze was no less potent for the distance between them. She returned his stare as boldly as he gave it. The lean planes of his cheeks looked harsh and forbidding, his jaw was set and rigid, and she was close enough to detect the underlying currents in his body. He was seething with anger and that anger was directed at her.

He didn’t want this betrothal any more now than he had when he’d asked her to be his mistress, she knew. He was simply being chivalrous. She hadn’t expected him to rescue her from a scandal that was greatly of his own making.

In a way that Jane considered to be insulting, his eyes coursed down the fine curves of her body, from the slim erect column of her neck to the beckoning fullness of her hips. The
all-too-apparent womanliness of her evoked a strong stirring of desire and he felt a familiar hardening beneath the snug fit of his hose. Her innocence was new to him. It made a man feel whole and clean, yet her innocence and vulnerability were weapons against which he had no defence, not for all his swords and fighting skills. Devil take her, all of this was utterly foreign to him. It was a most unsettling sensation.

‘Well, my lord?’ she said coldly. ‘Do you have to inspect me as you would a filly to be sold at market? If the lust in your eyes is anything to go by, I would say you like what you see.’

‘Aye,’ he replied, ‘but the hostility I can do without.’

She glared at him. ‘Were I a man I would not smirk so easily,’ she retorted coldly.

He raised a finely arched eyebrow. ‘Were you a man, Jane, you wouldn’t be in this situation.’

‘No,’ she agreed. ‘I wouldn’t.’ Infuriated and seething with humiliation, she averted her gaze.

‘It is settled, Jane. Accept it. We are to wed.’

‘So it would seem. I dislike force of any kind. I loathe it, but I could do nothing to stop this. You are displeased because my father found out about what you proposed and now you are
angry because you’re having to pay the piper, yet you did not think what it would do to me.’

Guy’s face hardened and his eyes took on a malignant expression. ‘I would advise you to have a care, Jane. I did not have to come here today. It is your reputation that has been torn asunder—which, I admit, is partly down to me, but for the most part Aniston. My reputation is already as black as pitch. A scandal such as this will not dent the surface. Had you agreed to be my mistress, you would have been well cared for.’

Jane’s lips curved in what resembled a sneer rather than a smile. ‘As your mistress? No, thank you. I’d have slit my throat before consenting to that proposal.’

A tic appeared in his cheek and he stared at her for such a long time she stood transfixed like a bird before a snake, the lids lowered slightly over mocking eyes.

‘A woman who is kept by a man is usually better tended than his wife—as a queen. I would have been kind and more than generous with you.’

‘Meaning you will not be now,’ she said with sarcasm.

‘You’ve caught on quickly, Jane.’

She glowered at him. ‘Why was I so unlucky
to meet you that day when you were returning to Cherriot! You’re—you’re abominable.’

He laughed softly. ‘Some women wouldn’t agree with you, my love.’

‘I am not your love,’ she hissed. ‘Considering who you are and that you planned to marry someone of your own rank, to agree to marry me merely to appease my father was reckless indeed.’

She was pale—her eyes seemed bigger than usual and the small scattering of freckles across the bridge of her perfect nose stood out dark against her pallor. For a moment they simply stared at each other. Apart from the few angry words they had exchanged earlier, they had not spoken since she had left him at the church. Now here they were, standing on the edge of a very different future than either of them had planned.

At last Guy squared his shoulders and stepped towards her. The muscles in his jaw clenched tightly, banishing any trace of softness from his too-handsome face, and when he spoke, the softness in his voice was far from soothing.

‘I am never reckless and I never retract words spoken sincerely.’

She tossed back her shimmering head and
said, ‘I told you I didn’t want to marry you. I still don’t—however, circumstances have changed. But I cannot help feeling that I am being traded for a stake in the eminence of your earldom. I am nothing. I have nothing. I have no doubt you know just how close my father is to ruin and just how advantageous our marriage will be to him.’

He nodded. ‘I am aware of that. I will offer a sizeable stipend to be paid for your hand upon execution of the agreement,’ Guy informed her, his voice so matter of fact it might have been a business proposition he was talking about. ‘I will also guarantee in writing that upon my death you will inherit most of what I own. As rich as I am, I can help shore up your father’s financial situation.’

‘Oh, yes,’ she replied, her voice laced with sarcasm, ‘I am sure you can.’ She moved to stand in front of him, looking calmly up into his eyes. ‘But think about this, Guy St Edmond. I am in exactly the same situation as when I agreed to marry Richard. I will be marrying you to save myself and my family from ruin and for no other reason.’

Contemplating her flushed cheeks, he placed his finger beneath her chin and tilted her face to his. ‘You are wrong, Jane. As my wife our
situation will be far removed from that which existed between you and Aniston.’

‘And no doubt you are hoping I will present you with first-rate sons.’

‘It is my wish, and if they are to take after their mother, confidence, robust health, keen intelligence and courage will not be in short supply. My observation has also told me that you will be a good mother, for it is clear that you take after your own. My future wife’s ability to love my children is of paramount importance to me.’

‘So in practical terms, by all visible measures I fit the bill,’ Jane said coolly. ‘Are there any more attributes to my character you would like to tell me about?’

At any other time he would have told her she was caring, capable—a woman he could trust, one who could stand on her own two feet—and not one of those irritatingly helpless, empty-headed women who hung about at court, whose response to danger would be to faint clean away. He also thought that one day she would further mature into a formidable countess who could hold down the castle when he was away, probably for long periods at a time, attending to the far-flung reaches of his demesne. Recollecting himself, Guy felt an
ironic smile curve his lips. Good Lord! He was making her out to be the ideal wife.

‘I could end up being more trouble than I’m worth,’ Jane said. ‘Would it not be sensible to choose someone who is not altogether her own person? Someone who is more docile? Someone tame? Someone who would never dare question you, but would follow your orders as assiduously as if she were an extension of yourself?’

‘I agree,’ he replied mockingly.

‘Although you might very well die of boredom?’ she remarked sarcastically.

He looked at her calmly, a frown wrinkling his brow. ‘Before Aniston, was there ever a youth in your neighbourhood you were fond of?’

His question surprised her. She stared at him, thinking of the faceless number of admirers who had looked her way, men she had put out of her consideration. They could strike no fire in her blood, yet when in the midst of those faces Guy St Edmond’s visage appeared in her mind, a sweet wildness stirred her very soul.

‘No,’ she replied sharply, lowering her eyes lest he saw the truth.

The frown vanished. He ran his finger across her cheek and smiled. ‘I’m sure there were many who were smitten with you.’

She stepped back, causing him to drop his arm. ‘There may have been a few, but none worth considering.’

‘I’m not worried,’ he answered easily. ‘You were well guarded by your father.’

‘Yes,’ she retorted sarcastically. ‘That is, from everybody but you when you and your marauding band of knights happened to come across me in the woods that day. You
are
a devil, Guy St Edmond.’

His anger returned with frightening speed. ‘More myth than man, Jane. I may be feared by my enemies, but you have no need to be afraid. Do you imagine me a cruel tyrant?’

‘If you are about to tell me you are the kindest man in all the kingdoms, I shall take some convincing,’ she scoffed.

‘I shall endeavour to do so and shall make a point of telling you until your ears ache.’

‘I may not listen.’

‘You haven’t heard me roar.’ He grew instantly grave. ‘I am not a monster, Jane. Your doubts disturb me. How a man treats his enemies is one thing. How a man treats his wife may be quite another. If ever I do make you feel threatened or intimidated, you can be certain you are misunderstanding my concern for
your welfare. So protest if you must, but I told you in the beginning that you would be mine.’

‘Aye, my lord, but not honourably—not as your wife.’

‘But either way, you know you will, don’t you?’

She closed her eyes and nodded. Guy St Edmond had defeated her as he had said he would from the beginning. She could not fight it and was not sure that she wanted to any more. Opening her eyes, she looked at him, aware that this thing with a man so confident in his own abilities was only just beginning.

‘Yes,’ she conceded. ‘You did. Please excuse me now. I am sure there are further matters you must discuss with my father.’

She turned her back on him, not wanting one more smile or head tilt or glimpse of his overwhelming male presence to complicate her already muddled feelings. She assumed he would allow her to leave, but suddenly she felt his breath caress the back of her neck, causing gooseflesh to prickle along her skin. Before she could move away, his warm hands curled over her shoulders, gentling her in place.

When he traced his finger along the flesh on her neck, she closed her eyes, awed that
a hand which dealt death so skilfully with a sword could be so infinitely tender.

‘What your father and I have to discuss can wait,’ he whispered, his lips dangerously close to her ear. ‘I have a more pressing matter to discuss with my future wife. I have yet to taste the sweetness of your lips. Do not withhold them from me, Jane.’

She refused to turn around, refused to look into his eyes and be swayed by what he wanted her to feel, childishly wanting to cover her ears with her hands against this seduction that was proving too potent. The air was charged between them. She heard him sigh as his mouth touched her hair with a brief and tantalising lightness, and her response was immediate. She felt a shifting, an upheaval deep inside her. A shivering shudder went through her as she felt his warm breath caress her flesh, heard her name hoarsely whispered.

‘By the way,’ he murmured, drawing her back against his hard chest, ‘when I listed your attributes, I failed to tell you that you are very lovely—but then, you must know that.’

She could tell by the harsh sound of his breathing that he wanted her to turn round so that he could kiss her—she could feel the pull of his masculinity, almost hear his body
begging for her to turn round—but she didn’t dare. She caught her breath as strange sensations leaped through her, setting her whole being on fire.

Guy left her with no choice when he forcibly turned her within the circle of his arms, crushing her breasts against his steely warm chest. He looked down at her, letting his eyes sweep the flushed cheeks.

Tilting back her head, Jane gazed up into his eyes. They had darkened to a stormy dark blue. A tremor went through her as his hand claimed the softness of her nape.

‘A kiss, Jane—to seal our bargain. I refuse to leave without a taste of my future wife’s lips.’

His fingers caressed her nape as he brought his face closer to hers. And then, before she could even react, his mouth swooped down on hers, hot and hard, plundering her lips in a brigand’s kiss. In his unyielding haste it was rough, bruising the flesh of her lower lip, his jaw scraping her tender flesh, but the instant she whimpered, trapped in his arms, his kiss softened, deepened.

Pleasure unfolded inside her like a butterfly opening its wings to fly. Never in her imagination had she experienced anything so piercing or so sweet as this. Their mouths melded in
warm communion, turning, twisting, devouring. His mouth slanted over hers in hungry demand, her hands clung weakly to his broad shoulders. His tightening embrace crushed her. But though he held her firmly, inwardly Jane was falling, falling from the highest point, spinning weightlessly to earth. She was totally in his power and the pleasure in this sudden helplessness alarmed her. Her body came keenly alive, all her senses heightened and focused on him and herself and the touch of his mouth until nothing else mattered. Everything else receded into insignificance. She breathed in the scent of him. He parted her lips with his own, a lush, full openness that tasted her, that enabled her to taste him. Oh, how could anything as simple as this bring so much pleasure?