The Devil Claims a Wife (2 page)

‘Well, well, and what have we here?’ Guy St Edmond murmured in a voice that was deep and rich and full of unexpected beauty, still looking at her. Her eyes flickered over him, clearly interested, but perhaps intimidated by his size and the bruiser’s build that he had inherited from his father. ‘I don’t bite,’ he said with a cynical half-smile.

‘No? I have heard to the contrary.’

He laughed, a deep, booming laugh as his horse did a full circle. When he faced her once more, already regretting her impulsive words, Jane stared up at the stranger and despite her efforts a soft flush crept up her cheeks. Without lowering her gaze, she sank into a curtsy as gracefully as she knew how and her trembling limbs would permit. In an attempt to alleviate her siblings’ fear, she smiled, showing teeth that were white and even and beautifully shaped. ‘I am Jane Lovet,’ she said, ‘daughter of Simon Lovet, who is a trader in fine cloth here in Cherriot.’

‘And the father of a Lancastrian, if I am not mistaken,’ he said in such a way that made
Jane’s blood run cold in her veins. ‘And do you and your family follow your brother’s inclinations as loyal Lancastrians, Jane Lovet, though much good it did him? Are you loyal to King Henry?’

Jane stared at him. Every merchant in London was Yorkist to a man, throwing their support behind the young, strong and intelligent King Edward. Being an exacting, ambitious man, her father’s every thought was directed into making money and the elevation of his family, and as such he had no particular leanings for either side. But he had been unable to forgive Andrew his support for Henry, which had turned the majority of merchants against him.

‘My brother’s support of King Henry cannot be denied, but my parents accept the rule of King Edward.’

He nodded. ‘A sensible move, since Henry can no longer raise a decent army to continue the fight.’

‘So we have been told, and since the king himself has recently married an impoverished widow from the enemy camp, a woman whose own father fought against him, we can be assured of his leniency.’

Guy’s eyes narrowed as they focused on her
upturned face, caught somewhere between anger, amazement and admiration for her defiant courage. ‘Your words are boldly spoken, Jane Lovet. But I warn you to have a care what you say in the future. Do you live hereabouts?’

She nodded. ‘In the manor house at the end of the village close to the river.’

‘So we are to be neighbours.’ His eyes did a study of Alfred and Blanche and the comely Kate. ‘And are these people kin of yours?’

Jane glanced at the threesome. Alfred was tall like his father, while her younger sister, Blanche, was a few inches less, and still growing. They were similar in looks—both had light-brown curly hair and green eyes with brown flecks.

‘Kate is my maid, and Alfred and Blanche my siblings. Are you to reside in the village long, sir?’

‘As to that, we shall have to wait and see.’ His arrogant mouth softened and, leaning down, he cupped her face with his big hand and looked deep into her eyes. ‘Never have I seen a face so fair—or eyes so unafraid. Do you not fear me, sweet Jane?’

Jane knew she should draw back and state her objections at this uncalled-for bold familiarity, but she held her ground and endured the
feel of his strong fingers and the warmth of them touching her flesh. ‘Do I have reason to fear you, sir?’

‘Maybe you do. Do you know who I am?’

‘Everyone in these parts knows who you are.’

‘And how can they possibly know that when they have not set eyes on me in almost a decade?’

Jane stared at him, temporarily speechless, relieved when he dropped his hand and sat up straight in the saddle. His looks were spectacular, but they were not the most important thing about him. Now she could see that his face had an uncompromising ruthlessness and strength which marked him as an adventurer and gambler. In spite of the fact that he was a nobleman, he was a man free from bonds and ties.

‘You are Guy St Edmond, the Earl of Sinnington. You are to take up residence at Sinnington Castle. People have talked of nothing else these past weeks.’

Guy St Edmond cocked a brow and canted his head at an angle as he gazed into her eyes, holding her in his blue depths. Suddenly Jane was the captive of those fathomless eyes and, while those around them went on breathing, Jane felt as if she and Guy St Edmond were alone in the world. Though it was not a feeling
she was accustomed to feeling, some feminine instinct deep within her recognised the fiery gleam in his eyes and understood that he felt the same.

‘Then since we are to reside close to each other, Mistress Lovet, I shall look forward to seeing you again. I have noted your grace and your beauty and that they are but hints of other talents. What else should I know of you?’

‘Sir, I do not know what else I might tell you, except that I am soon to be betrothed and when I am wed I will be leaving the village to take up residence with my husband’s family in the next village.’

So taken was Guy by her that her pronouncement dealt him a blow of disappointment he was quite unprepared for, though he gave no hint of it. It was because he was watching her so intently that he saw a change in her. He saw the light of exhilaration so suddenly and utterly extinguished and, for a fleeting moment, it was replaced with a look of total desolation. It was the sort of look that could break even the hardest heart and made him wonder what was wrong with the man she was to wed.

‘Married! Then I must congratulate your betrothed on an excellent choice of bride,’ he said, his eyes never leaving her face. Her astonishing
beauty had struck him at once, but now that he saw her more closely he was impressed by something more, a sort of intrinsic worth which he had not expected to find. However, he did not intend to let her see this and there was more than a suggestion of mockery about his smile when he said, ‘He is a truly fortunate man to have claimed such a wondrously fair bride. I cannot but imagine the ardent swains who will be left languishing over their loss. I will think of a gift for the bride-to-be and have it delivered directly to your father’s house.’

‘Thank you,’ Jane said, suddenly shy. ‘That is indeed thoughtful of you, but I—I could not possibly accept …’

‘To refuse is to risk offending the earl,’ the rider closest to the earl said jovially. Cedric was a big, brawny squire with a wild thatch of bright blond hair in dire need of a trimming, who looked more like a bear than a man. He looked Jane over from head to foot, his voice and eyes lazily good humoured. ‘When a pretty girl takes his eye, you will find Guy St Edmond a man of the grand gesture,’ he quipped, winking good naturedly at his master. ‘Now we must be on our way, Guy. We have ridden far and my belly is demanding food. I haven’t had a mouthful since I ate that bacon at breakfast.’

His fellow riders laughed heartily at this, for apparently his appetite was a well-established joke among them.

‘The deuce you haven’t, Cedric,’ the earl chided with mock reproach. ‘Come, then, we’ll be on our way.’

The men wheeled their horses round and as Guy St Edmond’s turned, its forelegs lifted high, he turned his head and looked at Jane once more. Perhaps it was the heat of the day or the sun that filled the glade with its golden light, or the blackbird that continued to sing its delightful song, but in the depths of that gaze she felt time was suspended.

‘We will meet again, Jane Lovet. Do not be in any doubt of that. I shall see to it.’

Her mouth went dry as alarm gathered apace, along with wild, wanton sensations she had never experienced before that were beginning to fill her body, taking control of her, making her weak and helpless. Recollecting herself, she reminded herself who he was. They had been told it was Guy St Edmond who had issued the death sentence on her beloved brother when he had been taken prisoner at the Battle of Towton in 1461—just one of almost thirty thousand cut down that day. She took a step back, her heart beating sickeningly fast. As she
stiffened her shoulders in an effort at least to appear composed, her eyes were intense.

‘You forget yourself, sir. It would be inappropriate for us to meet in the way I believe you are suggesting.’

He flashed her a mocking smile, his tone suddenly taunting. ‘Why? Would it have anything to do with me being a barbarian?’

‘I have told you that I am to be married, sir—yet even had that not been the case,’ she said, unaware that she was plunging lightning-fast into unchartered territory, ‘your reputation has preceded you. People say you are the spawn of Satan and that men and children fear you. For years there have been rumours that you enjoy killing—that it was by your order that my brother died and that you take pleasure in the suffering of others.’ When he didn’t deny it, Jane felt her insides cringe.

‘Since you appear to know so much about me,’ he said in a dangerously soft voice, ‘there is little wonder I am
persona non grata
in certain company.’

‘You must have luck on your side in war,’ she replied tersely.

Guy’s leisurely perusal swept her as he tried to control his restive mount. ‘I am as lucky in war as I am in love, sweet Jane. I’ve been a
long time at the wars. I confess there might be some justification in the rumours you have heard about me. Killing makes barbarians of many brave and honourable men. However,’ he said, his eyes glowing in the warm light as he gave her a lazy smile, his gaze settling on her lips, ‘I doubt that in your case my reaction would vary had I just left the king’s court.’

Jane’s eyes flared at his boldness. Lifting her nose primly in the air, she coolly glanced askance at him. ‘You press yourself beyond the bounds of propriety, sir! As I said, I am to leave the village shortly when I am wed.’

A crooked smile slanted Guy’s lips. He had seen her eyes flash and he approved. It was a sign that she had spirit. Mistress Lovet was clearly prepared to reject his further attentions. Where with another woman he would have felt merely challenged, if he felt anything at all, her rejection, delivered with a sweet but dauntless pride, cut dangerously deep. He rarely encountered occasions when he bothered to exert himself to change a woman’s mind, but a man like Guy St Edmond got what he wanted, and meet with her again he would.

As he leaned forwards there was a flash in his eyes that Jane could not recognise. It was like a sudden hunger, as when a starving man
sees a banquet. Bravely she stood her ground. She was neither afraid nor coquettish, but she was still young and there was something about the power and the energy of this man that she didn’t want focused on her.

He stared at her with his head tilted to one side. The corners of his mouth lifted as his eyes left hers and wandered to her feet and back, slowly, slowly appraising, approving, for his smile broadened as he looked back into her eyes. Reaching out, he touched her cheek with the backs of his fingers. When he spoke, his voice was solemn and he held her gaze with an intensity of his own.

‘You’re very beautiful,’ he murmured, both entranced and repelled by what he wanted. ‘I remember your father and your mother,’ he said equably. ‘I have known them since I was a boy, in good times and bad. So know this, and never doubt it, sweet Jane.’ He seemed to measure his words carefully. ‘My word is my bond and I pledge it to you. You can rest assured we shall meet—and at my instigation. I promise you.’

Jane stared at him aghast, realising he meant every word he said. For a moment the blue eyes looked savage. That this mighty lord should want her both fascinated and terrified her. He was confusing on every level. Unknown and
intriguing, he was a new threat that could not be second-guessed. She knew beyond doubt that she was his prey, that he intended to seduce her, to dishonour her, and nothing was going to deter him from trying—not even the fact that she was about to be betrothed to another.

Guy St Edmond would have no pity on her and he would damn anyone who stood in his way.

She could not let that happen. Time that had stopped for a moment went on again. Unable to bear his taunting gaze, she dropped her eyes and made a curtsy. With a deep laugh and a touch of spurs to his horse’s flesh, Guy turned and rode off in pursuit of his companions.

Not until he was out of sight did Jane turn to Kate, who suddenly found her tongue.

‘Well, I never! The Earl of Sinnington! He has a way about him, doesn’t he?’

‘Oh, yes. He certainly has a way. Come, let us play a game of hoodman blind. I shall wear the blindfold.’

Determined not to let the encounter with Guy St Edmond spoil their game, Jane took the cloth from Alfred’s pocket and tied it around her eyes. Having no wish to go home just yet, the frightening interlude forgotten as they became caught up in the new game, the children
giggled and erupted into gales of laughter as they darted this way and that to avoid their sister’s groping hands. Jane laughed delightedly as she pretended she couldn’t locate the giggling children.

Taking a moment to pause and look back, Guy was enchanted by what he saw. Mistress Lovet’s laughter rang out like tinkling chimes. It was a delightful scene—a scene of innocence and perfection that would become etched in memory and emblazoned on his heart.

From her seat on a stout trunk of a fallen tree, Kate watched the innocent play of her charges. Kate had watched Jane grow. As a child she’d been headstrong, pugnacious and daring. Surrounded by family all her life, especially her doting mother, she was an imp of a girl, always courting laughter with her japes.

Kate’s gaze took in the condition of Alfred and Blanche, which brought a frown to her brow. They had set off from home in their best and she was dismayed to see that Alfred had scuffed his shoes and ripped his hose, and that Blanche had leaves and twigs in her hair. They were in for a scolding from their father when they got back to the house, unless she could
smuggle them upstairs and clean them up first. Knowing it was time to go home, she rose.

‘Jane, come. It’s time we were getting back. Enough play for today. Your mother stressed that you mustn’t be late.’

Removing her blindfold, Jane laughed at her maid, her beloved Kate, who knew her like no other, who saw to all their needs with affection and devotion. ‘Must we go now, Kate?’