Chapter 28
He stood to look at her. “You’re damned strong for a lady, my dear. But I’m stronger. Never forget that. I’m going to do your hands now. With your legs tied, you can’t get away, and you don’t want to make me angry, do you?”
Any chance of convincing him she was weak and willing had gone, so she said, “You can rape me ten times a day, Lord Randolph, and I won’t marry you. In fact, I’ll see you hang for it.”
He just laughed. “You’ll change your tune.”
When he cut the cloth around her arms, she was ready to go for her pistol, but he captured both wrists and tied them to the bar that ran across the top of the bed.
Stretched out, Diana knew total helplessness for the first time in her life. Blinding, numbing fear welled over her, but she fought it.
Ironhand, she chanted silently.
She came from a line of northern warriors who had died in battle, and in dungeons, and under torture. She’d not disgrace them here. And she’d meant what she’d said. Nothing he could do could make her say her vows to him, and sooner or later she’d see him dead for it.
If he raped her, so be it. It would be nothing next to the rack, or being hanged, drawn, and quartered.
He eyed her, and she remembered thinking that he wasn’t as stupid as he seemed. “You’re quite a surprise, Lady Arradale, but don’t get overconfident. As you see, you can’t fight a determined man, and if you don’t behave, I’ll find ways to make you.”
“Whips, now. What a bully you are.”
Anger flickered, but he picked up a rose petal and stroked it up and down her neck.
She’d rather he hit her. “If necessary. But there are other ways. Everyone cares for something, and what you care for, you’ll lose unless you are a completely dutiful wife.
Words, however, are feeble women’s weapons. You can berate me if you insist.”
“Oh good. You’re a slimy turd from a very sick animal.”
He stared at her in shock, then slapped her. Not hard. A sting, no more, and she had to admire his restraint for he was clearly outraged.
“More language like that and you’ll be black and blue. You’re clearly not the lady you appear to be, but by God, as my wife you will be.”
He picked up his knife and cut open her bodice, calmly and carefully peeling it back until her breasts were completely exposed. She couldn’t help but try to twist her hands free, but she could do nothing, nothing!
“Very nice,” he murmured, tossing the knife aside and gathering both breasts in his hands. “Wealth, power, and a luscious body. I do appreciate my good fortune, wife. Never doubt that. Now, let me show you how nice this all can be.”
He began to roll one nipple between his fingers, quite gently, and with a part of her shocked and horrified mind Diana sensed her body’s automatic reaction.
She closed her eyes and tried to block out the feel of his intrusive hands and the irritating tendency of her body to respond like a mindless thing. Tried to concentrate instead on the searing satisfaction of killing him at the earliest opportunity.
Taking out her pistol and shooting him. She could imagine the shocked disbelief the moment before he died …
He was suckling her and her damnable rogue body twitched.
Shooting would be too quick. Too indirect.
Picking up his knife and plunging it deep, again, and again—
Sharp sting on her cheek again.
Her eyes flew open.
“No, you don’t,” he said, still smiling. “Keep your eyes open. It’s not wrong for me to touch you like this. Not as your husband.”
“You’re not my husband.”
“Yet. I’d kiss you, but I fear you’d try to bite. Think what you’re missing.”
Then he moved lower down the bed and used both hands to push up her skirts to her waist. She tensed, thinking he’d have to feel the pistol, but her pockets were stiff, and he was far more intent on her.
“Very nice,” he said, pushing her knees apart to expose her further. “Stay like that.” He moved back to unfasten his breeches.
No. Though she was powerless, she would not submit. She closed her legs as much as she could, took a deep breath and screamed. It felt so good, she screamed again, louder. Again, and again, and again!
“Damn you, shut up!” He clapped his hand over her mouth. Gleeful to finally be fighting, she tried to bite. He grabbed his shirt one-handed and shoved it into her mouth, more and more until she was choking.
“Now will you shut up?” he snarled, straightening, his hair wild, and his eyes more so. “By God, if you didn’t own a large part of the north I’d cut your throat and leave you to rot.”
Panicked by the cloth against her throat, Diana made herself calm and breathe through her nose.
He glared at her, then smiled again, extremely unpleasantly. “I think you need a lesson, wife. You can stay like that for a while.”
He took something out of his pocket—a flask—and went to sit on a settle beside the fireplace. As he tilted it and drank, he watched her with sickening satisfaction.
It might be wiser to close her eyes, but she felt she had to keep watching him, as if sight might help in some way. She struggled for every breath, struggled not to choke, struggled not to show fear.
“Remarkable,” he said after a while. “I’m going to have to break you, of course, like a rogue horse.
Or I could just clap you in a madhouse. Ah, a reaction.
I gather the king’s holding that threat over your head.
A husband is in a much better position, and I suspect I could goad you into public insanity quite easily.
So sad. Your unnatural position is to blame, of course. ”
He rose, came slowly over to the bed, and pulled the shirt out of her mouth a bit. “Going to behave now?”
Though she could hardly bear the thought of the cloth back deep in her mouth, she just looked at him. With a smile, he tied it in place, but not stuffed deep.
“See, you are completely at my mercy. I can do with you as I please. Even be kind.” He picked up a rose petal again, and stroked it around and around her breasts. “Doesn’t that feel sweet?” He put it close to her nose, where she couldn’t help but breathe in the perfume. “Doesn’t it smell sweet?”
Then he suddenly squeezed her nose shut, cutting off all air.
“Or I can be very unkind.”
Though a cry escaped, she fought not to breathe in through her mouth, not to suck the cloth back down.
He laughed and let her go, then ungagged her entirely. “Your choice, my arrogant lady. Kind, or unkind.” He unfastened his bulging breeches.
She sucked in deep breaths, but would not give him the satisfaction of a reply. She closed her eyes, and resolved to keep them closed. That was the only power she had left.
“Think you can resist, don’t you?” he said in an unnerving sneer.
“But bodies are funny things, wife. You’ll doubtless not enjoy the first time, but we have the rest of the night, and I intend to use every minute of it.
” He thrust her legs apart again. “I’ll make you explode with pleasure sooner or later, and then you’ll change your tune. Remember that.”
“As final words, they have a certain memorability.”
Diana’s eyes flew open. “Bey,” she whispered, wondering if her mind had escaped into fantasy.
Lord Randolph, a step away now, red with fury.
Lord Bryght, a pistol aimed at him.
Bey here, with her, pulling her skirts down, and cutting her bonds with three quick slashes of a knife. Like a reflex, she jerked into a protective huddle, knees to exposed chest. He gathered her, still locked like that, into his arms.
“Hush, hush,” he murmured, and she realized she was weeping.
She didn’t want to weep!
But weak tears poured like a river in flood, conquering any will to stop them. His arms tightened and he rocked her, still murmuring words she couldn’t hear as she wept till she ached, wept till she burned, wept till she could weep no more.
“Hush now,” he said, words making sense at last. “Poor Lord Randolph is awaiting your pleasure.”
That snapped her sore eyes open, and saw her would-be rapist, arrogant despite his still-open breeches. As she’d thought, Lord Bryght had him under control of his pistol. Bey seemed almost calm, but Lord Bryght emanated cold fury.
Diana realized she’d unlocked herself from that protective knot at some point, and now she moved out of Bey’s arms, clutching around herself the coat she hadn’t been aware of before. Bey’s coat. He was in shirt sleeves, watching her with deep, dark care.
Silently, he pulled a long cravat pin from the lace at his throat, and gently loosened her clutching hands from his coat. Deftly, he pulled her bodice together and wove the pin through the cut edges so she was decent again.
Still shivering slightly, she dragged her pistol out of her pocket at last, and cocked it. “I vowed to kill him.”
“He is yours.”
“You can’t do that,” Lord Randolph said, suddenly pale. “For God’s sake, Lord Rothgar, take that off her before she has an accident.”
Diana growled. “I need to kill him.”
“He is yours,” Bey said again. “Somerton, she could put a pistol ball between your eyes at thirty paces, so wherever she hits you, it will not be an accident. I recommend between the legs, Lady Arradale.”
Lord Randolph went white, and covered himself with his hands. “By God! Lady Arradale, remember the king!”
“You stupid man, do you really think the king would have ordered this?”
“I have his letter!”
Bey put his hand on her pistol. “Perhaps he should live a little longer. What letter?”
“He claims to have a letter from the king proposing this plan to prevent the union of our two estates. But Bey, de Couriac was part of this. It’s the French. I think it’s aimed at you—”
“Hush,” he said. “I know. This place is well guarded now.” He looked at Lord Randolph. “The king will be outraged by this abduction, and he wants a marriage between myself and Lady Arradale.”
“You lie. I have the letter in my coat!”
Bey rose and went through the pockets of Lord Randolph’s abandoned jacket.
“You’ll see I’m speaking the truth,” the man said. “Let me fasten my breeches.”