Chapter 6
Nothing.
His wife was standing in front of him in a shocking state of undress and yet Siaspar felt nothing except contempt.
His senses did not stir once, his blood remained cool.
It was not that she was ugly, far from it.
The hair cascading down her shoulders appeared silky soft, her body was curvaceous and the blue of her eyes, pure as a summer’s sky.
Still she stirred absolutely no desire in him, the way a slice of roasted meat would not tempt a man who had seen the vermin crawling underneath before it was cooked.
Fortunately, he could always pretend to be aroused.
If he behaved as if he wanted her, she would not know that his manhood was actually as limp as a worm.
He walked forward. The last month, when he had gone out of his way to make her uncomfortable and think him uncouth, had been surprisingly entertaining, but this would be his most enjoyable taunt yet.
After an intense discussion with Cadell, Siaspar had agreed not to confront his wife just yet.
For one thing, he had been busy overseeing the ploughing and the sowing of the crops in the fields.
This crucial moment of the year required all his attention, and he refused to let his despicable wife compromise the future harvest. For another, there was still time.
He had only been married a month and at the moment, his wife was surrounded by Welsh people who did not know her and would support him in preference to her.
Even if she intended to stir trouble there was nothing she could do.
“You are dismissed,” he told the two ladies lurking in the background.
He would not be surprised if Lady Malpas had instructed her women to remain with her at all times, so she could avoid finding herself alone with a husband she hated.
Still, everyone knew they could not ignore a direct order from him. After a deep curtsy, the ladies went.
“May I ask why you are here at this time, my lord?” Lady Malpas looked more nervous than he had ever seen her since she’d arrived.
“You may,” he answered, deciding to be gracious for once. “But I would have thought that the presence of your husband in your bedchamber at this time of night is explanation enough.”
“You… You never announced your intention of c-coming to me this evening,” she stammered.
“No, I did not. But surely it makes no difference whether I do or not?”
He kept his face impassive but, of course, he knew the answer to that question.
It made all the difference in the world, since it meant that she had not had the opportunity to call for Katherine to come and take her place.
His hand went to his scabbard and he started to undo the buckle slowly, his gaze fastened on Lady Malpas.
He saw her gulp and he barely refrained from smiling.
How was she going to get herself out of this?
“Forgive me, but I cannot share your bed tonight, my lord.”
“Oh? I am curious, I will admit, as to why that might be.”
“Lent,” she blurted out. “My confessor has impressed upon me the need for total abstinence during this holy period.”
Siaspar had no idea how he managed to remain expressionless.
Of all the excuses he had expected her to use, this was one of the most improbable ones.
He had imagined she would resort to pretending that her courses had started, or feign some mysterious illness.
He could not fault her for ingenuity. Lent! He almost laughed out loud.
At least, he had the confirmation that she was prepared to go to extreme lengths to avoid being bedded by him.
But she had no other choice, for how would she explain that she was still a virgin after being bedded twice—and the second time rather thoroughly?
Abstaining for Lent would give her some weeks to come up with a solution to this dilemma.
A dilemma she had probably never imagined she would have to face.
Katherine had revealed that his wife had hoped he would not bother with her once their marriage was consummated, at least for a while.
So what would she do? Would she ask someone else to deflower her before Easter?
Surely she could not expect to use the same stratagem all her life and ask a servant to take her place every time her husband wanted to bed her?
His jaw clenched. This situation would quickly become untenable for both of them.
“I am gratified to see you so observant in your religious duties. No doubt it is atonement for some dark sin you committed in the past.”
Instead of answering, she lowered her eyes to the floor. Siaspar arched a brow. Had the woman committed some dark deed? It would not surprise him, but now was not the time to worry about her past. He wasn’t even sure he cared.
“May I point out that Lent starts tomorrow, however?” he carried on, determined to rattle her peace of mind. “We could sleep together tonight. I’m sure Father Bernard would not object. I am your legally wedded husband, after all.”
He placed his sword belt on the chest, making his intention to bed her clear.
Of course, in reality, she was in no danger; he had absolutely no intention of going through with what would be an ordeal for both of them.
This woman repelled him, and he only wanted to unsettle her.
What he had seen of her in the last few weeks had transformed what had once been mere dislike into profound disgust.
“We cannot share a bed, my lord, for if you bedded me tonight, then I would begin Lent with your…seed still inside me.”
Though she tried to suppress a shiver at the idea, Siaspar saw her distaste. This was not part of the act; she was truly revulsed at the idea of him touching her.
“Yes. You would be soiled by my accursed Welsh seed, making an accursed Welsh monster in your womb.” He picked up the sword belt he had put on the chest only a moment ago.
The demonstration had been crystal clear.
His wife hated him, she could not bear the thought of him touching her.
And now he just wanted to go. There was only so much he could take without retaliating.
“I see that the begetting of an heir will have to wait until Easter, my lady.”
He could not resist this last pique. Let her worry over this problem for the next few weeks. It was nothing less than she deserved.
Siaspar left the room, feeling more dispirited than ever.
How would he get himself out of this mess?
The obvious answer would be to do what he suspected his wife wanted to do, and have their union annulled.
But such a procedure could be lengthy, and was not guaranteed to be successful without proof and witnesses.
Besides, it was not in his interest to do so, now less than ever.
Only the week before, they’d received news that his friend Rhodri ap Rhys had had his estate confiscated.
The previous year, some English barons had attacked the lands of the king’s favorite, Hugh Despenser, in South Wales.
The man had abused his position for years and created bitter enemies during his rise to power.
Moved by the hatred they felt toward him, various nobles had invaded Glamorgan and seized Despenser’s lands.
After crushing the rebellion, King Edward II had increased the military presence all over Wales.
And one of his friends had been rewarded for his role in the handling of the barons by being presented with Rhodri’s lands.
The man, whose family had owned the castle for generations, now had nothing left to his name, just like Cadell.
Siaspar was hoping that his union to Lady Malpas, unpleasant as it was, would offer some protection against such a fate.
Surely the king would think twice about antagonizing a man married to one of his subjects?
Could he really risk ridding himself of his wife when the fact that he was married to an Englishwoman was the only thing in his favor in Edward II’s mind?
No, not before he had found an alternative to protect his life’s work.
“What a state of affairs,” Cadell had said when he’d found out about Rhodri. “And think of the cruel irony: you were forced to marry an Englishwoman you can’t stand while I, who have actually found an Englishwoman I love, can never be with her.”
Yes, Siaspar knew about his brother’s feelings for the Lady Johanna, who had married one of the local lords but still spent most of her time in England. It seemed that English women were destined to be the bane of the two men’s lives, whether they had married them or not.
Lost in unpleasant thoughts, he spent an agitated night and woke up in a dark mood.
By contrast, in the morning, Lady Malpas was glowing. Knowing that she would be free of her husband’s advances for a few weeks had done wonders for her complexion. It did not make her more appealing, however, quite the opposite.
Siaspar regarded her warily, as he would a dangerous serpent about to strike.
He took a sip of ale and wondered if Katherine would be the one washing the cup later on.
How odd to think that he had made love to a woman who was this moment laboring away in the kitchen, out of sight.
He had always balked at the idea of taking his pleasure with women who worked at the castle, who would be wary of losing their position if they refused him.
He preferred to go to ladies or villagers who were free to decide whether to welcome his advances or keep him at a distance.
So far that had not happened, he reflected wryly.
A few had pretended to need persuasion before surrendering, but the light in their eyes had belied their false attack of modesty.
They had been playing a game, nothing more.
He had indulged them, allowing them to believe that they had been shamelessly seduced.
Katherine had been the only woman who had not come to him of her own accord.
The idea grated, even if he knew that on the second night, though it had not been her decision to bed him, she had eventually surrendered to the pleasure he had given her.
He still remembered the fierce spasms of her release, a release that had triggered his own.
It struck him that she was the first English woman he had bedded. He had seduced a few Scottish lasses during his visit to his sister in Scotland, and there had been a wild night with a Frenchwoman once, but English women, never.
Another first.
A laugh escaped his throat. What an unlikely choice of a bedmate this Katherine was. An unwilling, unexperienced English scullion he didn’t trust or even know. In other words, the polar opposite of his usual conquests.
So why did he find himself thinking of her multiple times a day?
The best thing for him might be to go away for a few weeks.
Yes, he decided, watching his wife push away the plate of cheese with disgust, once the fields were ready, he would go to Castell Esgyrn and see Lord Sheridan, who was almost like a father to him and most especially to his sister, Bethan, who had lived with the Hunter family from a young age.
Being English, and married to a Welsh woman, the man might have some insight about how to make such a marriage work.
“I don’t feel too well.”
Mel placed a hand on her forehead and closed her eyes. Katherine frowned. She and the maid had become close friends in the last eight weeks. At just nineteen, she reminded Katherine of her sister, Annette, whom she missed dearly.
“What’s the matter?”
“I’m cold,” Mel sighed. “I have a headache and I feel dizzy.”
Katherine placed her hand on her friend’s forehead. It was boiling hot. “I will find Mistress Blodwen and ask her for some willow bark tea. In the meantime, you should go and lie down.”
“Lie down! I don’t have the—”
“I will finish what you have to do, don’t worry. I have a bit of time to spare before dinner,” she lied. In truth, she had a huge pile of pots to wash, as usual, but Mel was her only friend at Castell y Ddraig, and she wanted to repay her kindness.
“Well, I was about to go clean his lordship’s room.”
“There is no rush, surely? He’s been gone for days.
” He and his squire, Gwyn, had gone to spend some time at a place nearby called Castell Esgyrn, which Mel had told her meant “Bones Castle.” It had made Katherine wonder why the Welsh liked such ominous names for their castles.
“You could go tomorrow, if you feel better.”
Mel shook her head. “I saw Gwyn earlier in the courtyard. He was sent ahead to tell us that the master was due to come back tonight. The rushes need replacing, and the fire will have to be lit or it will be too cold in the room.”
“Oh. I see.”
For all she wanted to help, Katherine would rather not have gone to Siaspar’s room.
If he saw her there, he would immediately suspect her of meddling for Lady Malpas’ benefit.
Their last encounter had not exactly been pleasant and on the rare occasions they had crossed paths, she had avoided looking at him.
“It will not take long,” Mel argued, sensing she was having second thoughts. “I would really appreciate your help, because…”
Before she could finish her sentence, she wavered and had to sit down on the bench.
Once again Katherine had no choice. In the state she was in, the girl would never make it to the top of the tower without falling down the stairs and injuring herself.
“Of course. I’ll go. You just find a place to rest.”
Mel had said that Siaspar was expected to come back only tonight. She should be finished long before he arrived. Assembling some kindling wood and an armful of fresh rushes in a basket, she headed up to the tower.