Chapter 10 #3
He and William had spoken at length last night, but Lily’s lands had never been part of that conversation.
Now that the king had made his generous gift, Radulf knew he was expected to be humbly grateful, but all he felt was dismay.
What of his home? He had been longing to return, and now he must go north again and begin building yet another castle.
The fact that it was his castle seemed immaterial.
Lily’s fingers, stiff and frozen, tightened their grip on his.
Radulf went still. In all the worry about saving her, he had forgotten that these were her lands and her people he and William were disposing of. She must love them just as much as he loved Crevitch.
How did Lily feel, hearing them pass from hand to hand so cavalierly? And if he did not accept this gift, this . . . burden, then another, lesser man might. He must take on the mantle of protector of the north—if not for himself, then for the sake of the woman at his side.
He bowed low. “You are very generous, sire. I accept.”
William nodded, satisfied. “Now!” The king leaned forward. “That leaves the question of the Lady Wilfreda herself.”
Lily’s face turned even paler but she held his gaze, her own unflinching.
A ripple of admiration traveled through the great hall.
There were words she should say, words she had planned to say, but her throat seemed to close up.
The king had just given her birthright away as if it were a counter in a child’s game.
Why should he value her life? A curious humming sound filled her ears, so that she had to strain to hear.
“Radulf? What say you? We cannot set the lady free, for fear she fall prey to rebellious elements. Should we shackle her?”
Inwardly Radulf groaned. William was amusing himself. The king’s playful, oftimes violent sense of humor was famous, and rightly feared.
“I agree she should be shackled, sire,” he replied, refusing to meet Lily’s stricken gray eyes, although he felt their power like a spear in his belly.
William shifted eagerly in his ornately carved chair. “And what should we use to shackle her, my friend?”
Radulf pretended to be thoughtful. “For such a woman as this we must use a mighty restraint, sire. Shackles she cannot possibly escape, shackles which will hold her prisoner all her life.”
The great hall was hushed, anticipation rubbing against horror until the atmosphere was raw.
“Yes.” William drew the word out thoughtfully.
“Mighty shackles. I think I know what will hold Lady Wilfreda securely, Radulf. You will marry her, and without delay!”
The hall erupted in a cacophony of sound.
William reduced it to a murmur with a single glare.
Lily swayed as the hum in her head turned into a roar.
Marry him? Was this a jest? A cruel game, designed to add to her suffering?
Oh God, this was even worse than she had imagined!
“Well, Radulf?” the king demanded. “I have ordered you to marry this lady. What say you?”
Radulf bowed low. When he spoke, his voice was loud enough to fill the silence. “I will humbly obey my king, sire.”
“Are you sure your lady is willing, Radulf? She appears to be about to faint.”
Radulf slipped an iron arm about Lily’s trim waist. “She’s overcome with joy, sire.”
William snorted. “Mayhap she still mourns her last husband, the rebel Vorgen,” he jested, but there was a hint of steel in his voice, as if he were having second thoughts.
Radulf laughed coarsely. “After Vorgen’s limp dagger, ’twill be a fine pleasure for the lady to have the King’s Sword between her thighs!”
William grinned at the ribald jest, his good humor restored.
Shame and fury burned Lily’s fair skin. She struggled, pushing at his hands, but Radulf held her easily, pinioning her to his side.
“Patience, lady,” he mocked. “I will bed you soon enough.”
Gales of laughter greeted this sally, William’s voice loudest of them all. When it had eased, he spoke again, a grin still splitting his face.
“I have ordered you to marry her, to protect her from those who would use her in their traitorous schemes.
Make an heir on her—a child of your blood and hers.
Norman and English. You will conquer the north by breeding the treachery out of it, Radulf!
Aye, let every one of your men who is unwed marry a girl of English or Viking blood!
We shall win these people over by means far more pleasurable than making war on them!”
William rose to his feet and dealt Radulf a hearty blow on the shoulder that would have felled a lesser man.
“We’ll see you wed here on the morrow. I order a feast to be prepared! I’m only sorry the queen will not witness it—she has so long despaired of seeing you marry, Radulf.”
There was a note of sadness in his voice. Happily married and deeply in love, William would never risk his wife, so he had returned Matilda to Normandy.
Radulf bowed and led Lily away, pretending not to notice her struggles.
“You have chosen a wildcat to take to wife, Radulf.”
The voice was sweet and melodious, and despite her own tumultuous feelings, Lily sensed Radulf’s shock on hearing it.
Instinctively she turned toward the speaker, and found that it was the same golden-eyed woman she had noticed earlier.
The lady stood, a half smile on her wide mouth, very secure in her fine velvet gown.
A smooth strand of dark hair curled at her brow, the remainder covered with a gossamer veil.
Not in her first youth, she was nevertheless breathtakingly beautiful.
“Radulf?” she queried with a laugh when he did not answer her, but Lily sensed a touch of pique.
Radulf bowed, a brief tilt of his dark head. His movements, always so graceful despite his size, seemed suddenly clumsy. “Lady Anna.”
The golden eyes slid over him, devouring him.
“You have not changed,” she said, but Radulf had already turned away.
Taking long strides toward the door, he pulled the now subdued Lily along behind him. As they passed into the outer chamber, Lily finally managed to free herself. She spun to face him, stiff and white.
With a resigned and heartfelt sigh, Radulf prepared himself for the onslaught. He felt physically and mentally drained, and now Anna was there to complicate matters. But he had expected Lily to be angry, and after what had been said about her and done to her, it was natural she would want her say.
“I will never marry you!” Her voice was trembling uncontrollably. “All Normans are greedy land-grabbing monsters! I had thought Vorgen bad enough, but now I see that you are worse!”
She swung her arm, aiming blindly.
Radulf easily caught the blow in his palm, folding her shaking hand into his.
He lifted an eyebrow and replied mildly, “You know that is not true. I have lands enough, and no love for your northern wilds. I agreed to take them because I feared what would happen to them if I did not. And as for marriage . . . if you do not marry me, lady, then you will be imprisoned for the rest of your life. Tell me, would you prefer to be shackled by a vow, or by irons?”
“Irons!” Her voice bit, stirring his own anger despite his determination to listen to her complaints with patience. “I was wed to one Norman, and I’d rather die than be wed to another!”
“Lady—” he warned.
“No! Take me back! I will speak again with your king. I am the granddaughter of Harald Hardraada, the king of Norway! I am the daughter of an English earl—”
He grasped her shoulders and shook her, until her voice faltered and stopped.
“The king has ordered that we marry, and you will marry me tomorrow and smile and pretend you like it. Just as I will. I have your lands now, and the ruling of your precious people. If you argue with me, if you disobey me, I will take my vengeance out on them.”
He did not mean it. He had never been a man who vented his spleen on the defenseless, but Lily could not know that. Her gray eyes glittered silver with tears.
“Why?” she gasped. “Why marry a woman you hate . . . who hates you? Is it to punish me? I do not understand,” she wailed, “why could you not have refused!”
He looked down at her a moment longer. “If I had refused then William would have found you another Norman, one less amenable then I.”
She made a most unladylike sound.
He smiled coldly. “It was my pride you dented with your tricks and your lies, not some other Norman’s. I will have my revenge on you my way. And what better revenge than to have you as my wife, in my power, forever?”
Lily flushed again with what he assumed was anger, but was actually horror. Her heart was thumping like a muffled drum, and for a long moment she thought she really might faint. She knew very well the fate that lay before her as the wife of a man who hated her.
“And if I do not wed you, you will ravage my lands?” she whispered.
“Aye,” he blustered.
She said nothing, giving him a wild look.
“But there is something apart from all that, lady. Another consideration.”
“Oh?” She managed through her aching throat.
“Aye, and it was this that swayed me most in favor of the king’s order.
” She stiffened only slightly as he bent close to whisper in her ear.
“I find great pleasure in your body. I enjoy touching you, kissing you . . . I enjoy being inside you and hearing you cry out. I think I will enjoy making an heir on you, lady. Planting my seed and seeing you swell.”
She had gone very still. He watched her eyes di-late, her breasts begin to rise and fall very rapidly.
“You . . . you will?” she managed to croak.
“Yes, I will. And do not think to deny me once that heir has been born. I will have as many children on you as I can while we are both able!”
It was a monstrous thing to say, he knew it as soon as the words were past his lips, but it was too late to pull them back.
Besides, he wanted her and it was best she know it.
He stepped closer, grasp-ing her shoulders and pulling her up against the hard wall of his chest until her breasts were flattened against him.
Her nipples, he noticed with interest, had gone hard.
His voice was a husky whisper. “I will lay with you every day of my life, mignonne, and still it will not be enough to rid me of the spell you have cast upon me.”
There was such a shimmer of heat in Radulf’s dark eyes that Lily’s lips fell open; her breath caught in her throat.
Her skin was still flushed and hot, but now something very different from anger was heating it.
The truth was well-nigh unbearable to her pride.
Oh God, she wanted him to wed her! She wanted to lie in his bed every day, just as he said. She wanted to bear his children!
Large, black-haired, brawling boys!
He read the need in her eyes, and his wonderful mouth tugged up at the corners. “Do you want that, too, lady? Do you?” His fingers slid across her cheek, playing with the soft fleshy part of her ear. His breath heated her lips.
He gave a short, humorless laugh. “We are both caught in the spell then, with no way out. William has forced us into marriage and we will make the most of it.”
Lily swallowed and closed her eyes against the wicked temptation in his. “Never!” she gasped, but it was a lie and he knew it.
He laughed again, and with Lily folded within one powerful arm, led her from the castle.
Radulf passed, unseeing, through the castle guard. His smile had gone, and beneath his grim exterior his feelings were careering as wildly out of control as Lily’s. He had come to William yesterday with the express purpose of begging his king to grant him leave to make Lily his wife.
After a long night, much talk, and more to drink, William had finally agreed to Radulf’s request. Only now that Radulf had had his wish granted, he saw it was not so simple.
She hated him, and he could not trust her!
And he had certainly not made himself any more palatable to her with his coarse playacting in the king’s hall.
The one thing Radulf felt reasonably certain of was the power he exerted over her body.
Their kiss had shown him that, and he had reaffirmed it moments ago, when she all but swooned in his arms at the thought of the marriage bed.
By God, she wanted him; she burned for him as hotly as he burned for her!
Perhaps if they spent every moment together in bed, they could find some measure of rosy happiness among the thorns of distrust and lies . . .
Jervois had the horses ready. As Radulf threw Lily up into her saddle, he fancied for a moment that he saw sheer anguish beneath the furious mask of her face. The impression was gone in a flash and she was glaring at him once more like an icy wildcat.
Aye, he had been granted his wish. Lily was to be his wife.
Pray God he did not live to regret it.