Velvet Bond (13 page)

She picked at these with her eating knife.

Raynor had not come to their room before the meal. He and Henry had gone off somewhere about the demesne. They had returned just before the meal, both of them with wet hair, acting as though they had known each other for years.

Elizabeth could only assume Henry had taken her husband swimming.

Raynor was acutely aware of Elizabeth beside him. She wore her lovely hair loose, and the glossy mass of curls had been brushed and draped over her shoulder to fall unbound to her lap.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the way she toyed with her food. A sigh escaped her as she wriggled beside him, and he wondered at her restlessness.

Mayhap pretending their marriage was a normal one was pressing upon her, as well. He felt guilty for allowing her brother to believe all was well between them.

Though he had just met him, Raynor sensed that Henry was a man of honor and forthrightness.

When they had first arrived and Elizabeth had sent him that beseeching look, he could not have denied the appeal to save his own soul. He did not know why she wished to keep the true circumstances of the relationship a secret from her brother and his family, but he could not betray her.

Raynor refused to allow himself to wonder why he would feel any sense of loyalty to the woman who had ruined his life on a whim. He simply tried to convince himself it would be easier to go along with her than to explain everything to these strangers.

Though in the past he had never been one to spare himself trouble by way of telling a falsehood.

Thinking to take his mind from his troubles with Elizabeth, Raynor turned to Henry, who was seated on his other side, engaged in a conversation with his wife.

Henry sounded none too pleased as he said, “The child will be born at Claymoore, Aileen. Our four months at Landview will be well over by then.”

Raynor could hear the irritation in her voice when his wife answered, “But Henry was born at Claymoore, and I would have the next one birthed here, in my own keep. It is not too much to ask that one of them be born here.”

He looked to Henry with surprise. Would the baron of Clayburn, who had a reputation for fierceness and arrogance, allow his wife to rule him? And what did she mean by her own keep? A woman’s property became her husband’s on their marriage.

Though Aileen continued with calm reason, Raynor could not help thinking he would allow no woman to tell him where his child would be born. It was only right that the offspring of a baron should be born at his own seat, should he desire it.

But as the conversation between the two continued, Raynor could see that Henry was weakening in his stance. Raynor was dismayed.

Never would he allow a woman to dictate to him. Aileen’s attitude only served to further prove that no woman was to be trusted. Since their arrival Raynor had seen the baron treat his wife with nothing but affection and deference. Obviously Henry Clayburn had shown his wife too much regard and honor. And what did that good dame do, but use his devotion against him?

It was just as with his father and mother. She had used his all-too-obvious affection to bind and manipulate her husband.

Raynor would not accept such treatment from Elizabeth. She must not have reason to think she could use her obvious beauty and intelligence to control him. She would never be allowed to meddle in his affairs as Aileen did Henry’s.

As if noticing that his guest was unduly interested in his conversation with his wife, Henry turned to Raynor with a dark frown.

Seeing her brother’s ill humor, Elizabeth sought to interrupt. She, too, had overheard the argument between Henry and Aileen. Knowing them as she did, she was not the least bit concerned. Both of them were strong individuals and well liked having their own way. But that never stopped them from settling things in the end.

Yet, though they loved each other beyond reason, Aileen and Henry’s relationship was a somewhat volatile one. And when he was arguing with his wife, Henry was more likely to be confrontational with others. It was just in his nature and not of much concern to those who knew him well.

Raynor did not know him well.

Elizabeth bit her lip. The evening was not going as it should. She should not have brought Raynor to Landview when things between them were so strained. She did not feel close enough to Raynor to try to explain the situation to him, and there was no reason to believe he would listen even if she tried.

“Henry,” she said with a smile, trying to distract him instead.

Her brother looked at her, but continued to scowl.

“Henry,” she repeated, the smile still fixed on her red lips. “Why don’t you tell us what it was like in France?”

At his surprised expression, Elizabeth almost laughed aloud. In the past she had shown a marked disinterest in what he had done during the war. Her newfound curiosity concerning the subject must indeed have startled him.

It also seemed to have made him realize he was discussing something that might best be considered in private.

Henry turned to Raynor, obviously thinking she had asked for her husband’s benefit. “Did you serve with the king’s army in France?”

Raynor shook his head, chewing slowly, then swallowing. “Nay, I was but fourteen when my father died, and I was called home to take over our lands. Though I do feel I have contributed to that effort in knight’s fees and gold. More’s the pity, as it leaves me less protection from others who might want to do harm to my own lands and people.”

Elizabeth looked at him in surprise. This she had not known. Then she realized that there was much about Raynor she did not know. She had just assumed that he must have been in France, as most of the men she knew had been. Stephen had not, but he served the king as messenger here in England.

She looked at her husband with interest. Mayhap Henry could get him to speak more of himself.

She also wondered what Henry would reply to his remarks. All knew him as a staunch supporter and friend to King Edward. There had been implied criticism of the war in what Raynor said. Not many would have the courage to speak thus before King Edward’s own friend.

Leaning forward, she listened with avid attention.

Henry looked to Raynor with something like suspicion in his golden eyes. “King Edward rules by right. Do you think to question your responsibilities to him and the realm? Are your own interests of more import than those of the kingdom?”

Raynor became very still. He laid down his knife, folding his hands before him as he met Henry’s gaze. “I, too, love my king and England. I but believe he should see to our own country first and worry about holdings on the Continent last. Our people have been bled dry in supporting this war to institute Edward as king of France. No man would give more than I to protect king or kingdom in the event of an attack upon our shores. I but state my opinion of what has thus far been a wasted effort to gain land in France.”

For a long moment, Henry said nothing. Then he nodded. “I see your point, though I will beg to disagree. As I see it, Edward must show strength in order to make the French understand that they cannot push him further. If he had simply accepted France’s invasion of Aquitaine, we might now have them to fight on our own shore.”

As the two men continued to talk of the matter, Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief. The two seemed to have agreed to disagree. The only possible solution to the problem. And after all, did they but realize it, their views were really not so opposed. Both of them loved their king and their country.

And as she thought about this, Elizabeth knew a growing respect for her husband. He had been brave to state his opinion so openly before Henry, knowing how he felt about the king. Besides, she tended to agree with her husband.

She interrupted the two men to say so. “Raynor is right. Declaring himself king of France has done Edward little good thus far. In fact, it has been to the country’s detriment. There are problems with the Welsh and Scots along our borders that he must needs attend to.”

She blushed as Raynor turned to study her thoughtfully. He seemed surprised and pleased by her support of his beliefs, though he said nothing of it.

As she watched him, his eyes took on a hint of uncertainty and his gaze moved over her face with unconscious vulnerability.

Suddenly it was hard for her to breath past the rising heat in her chest, and she was unable to break the contact of their eyes.

Raynor, too, seemed in the grip of some overwhelming emotion, for he reached out and placed his hand over hers on the table. A shaft of sweet sensation rose up the inside of her wrist, and she found herself leaning toward him.

A husky laugh interrupted her thoughts.

It was Henry, and he spoke with amusement. “Methinks, Aileen, that we’d best see these newlyweds to bed soon.”

Flushing, Elizabeth jerked her hand back, leaning away from Raynor. How could she have given so much of herself away? It seemed he had only to touch her and she lost all thought of what she was about. Even now her heartbeat had not slowed to its usual pace.

Elizabeth looked at Raynor and saw by the taut set of his jaw that he was angry. She felt a jab of irritation in the pit of her stomach. It seemed he was forever perturbed and blaming her for what was between them.

It was her fault no more than his. Elizabeth might not feel so much guilt over the way she reacted to him if Raynor stopped fighting it. Why could he not even try to become friends with her?

Even as the thought entered her mind, Elizabeth knew she wanted so much more. What she felt toward Raynor had little to do with friendship and much to do with the mysteries that drew a woman to a man.

She recalled the way he had looked at her a moment ago, his eyes soft and unguarded. That one moment when he lowered his defenses, however briefly, had been more intense than any communication she had ever experienced.

Despite the bawdy remark Henry had made at dinner, it was sometime after Elizabeth left before Raynor sought his bed.

Aileen had directed him to the chamber just off the far end of the hall. As he opened the door, he sighed. Mayhap it would be good to lay his head upon a real bed instead of the hard ground this night. He’d had little sleep over the past few days.

But the thought was overshadowed by the knowledge that his lack of sleep had had little to do with sleeping on the ground. He was not unused to hardship.

It was thoughts of Elizabeth that haunted his nights.

Immediately he knew the room wasn’t empty.

A fire had been lit in the hearth, and it cast a warm, rosy glow on the chamber and its occupant.

Elizabeth sat on a chair before the hearth. On hearing Raynor enter, she stood, turning slowly to face him. She was dressed in a long, filmy garment of white, and her black hair hung in a mass of curls about her. Raynor swallowed. It was a sight to fair take his breath away, but he gained immediate control of his reactions.

“Your pardon,” Raynor said, making to back through the door. “I have obviously come into the wrong room.”

Elizabeth held up her hand. “Nay, wait. 'Tis no mistake. Aileen has placed us here together. We are man and wife. It was only natural for her to assume we would be sharing a chamber.”

Raynor could not stop the rush of heat that ran up his neck. “I see. Well, I will simply sleep outside the gates with my men.” Raynor reached for the door. He would be glad of Bronic’s familiar company. He had refused the offer of a room in the keep, saying he would leave Raynor to get acquainted with his new in-laws.

But Elizabeth stopped her husband with a shake of her head. She moved toward him slowly, and the fire was a yellow-and-red glow behind her, haloing her long, slender legs, her delicately curved figure. He felt a tightness in his loins.

Elizabeth spoke softly. “There is no need for that, Raynor. As man and wife, we have the right to share this room.”

She stopped a mere arm’s length from him. She watched him, her eyes dark, magnetic pools, but with her back to the light he could not read their expression.

“Nay,” he whispered as he felt his resistance to her spiraling downward.

She inched closer, so close he could feel the heat from her fire-warmed skin. “Why, Raynor? Why must it be this way? Can we not try to make a start?”

With Elizabeth standing here, asking him these questions, he found it hard to remember why he must keep his distance. He remembered the way she had looked at him over dinner, how she had voiced her agreement with his opinions, even though they differed from her brother’s. He could not recall having been so warmed by such a small thing ever before.

Almost as if from outside himself, Raynor reached for her. And she came into his arms completely unresisting, offering her lips without demur.

He dragged her closer, so close their bodies seemed to meld. Raynor could feel his manhood growing against her belly, and could not keep himself from arching against her.

She groaned, wrapping her arms around his neck as he deepened their kiss. When he opened his mouth to give her his tongue, he found her open and willing. Her own tongue danced with his.

He shaped her back and hips with his palms, molding her to the hard length of him, marveling at the pliant weight of her in his arms. She sighed against his lips, undulating sensuously beneath his questing hands.