Chapter Ten #2
The stubborn little cat had sat up all night and watched the hut.
He wavered between thinking she was an idiot and being grateful to her.
What if she were right and Brita’s acquiescence had been a farce and her men were to attack during the night?
When morning came and Jura began to doze, Rowan knew his instincts about Brita were right.
She wanted peace as much as he did, and he resented Jura’s insinuations that Brita was untrustworthy.
He had been angry at Jura for not trusting him, for always doubting him, for always believing he was English and not Lanconian.
Then there had been that awful scene in the hut when the two women had fought a verbal battle that he feared would sour negotiations between the two tribes forever.
This time he did not follow Jura when she ran off into the forest but had stayed with Brita to plead for her understanding and forgiveness.
He meant to say that Jura was young and hot-tempered, but before he could speak, Brita dismissed the peasants so that they were alone—and she proceeded to run her hand up his thigh.
Somehow, Rowan managed to control his shock.
Brita was beautiful, oh heavens yes, she was stunningly beautiful and no doubt vastly experienced in bed, but he did not feel lust for her.
It had been the same in England when women had offered themselves to him.
He had been pleased and flattered by the women’s attentions, but he had never felt driven to carry them away and make mad love to them.
Only Jura had driven his senses into ecstasy. Only Jura had made him mad with the wanting of her.
Brita had whispered to him in a seductive way that she would marry him and they would unite the tribes and they would rule Lanconia together and they would spend their nights in wild pleasure. She even mentioned a few things Rowan had never heard of.
But she didn’t tempt him. All Rowan could think of was not seeing Jura, of not being near her, of not hearing her taunting him. He looked at Brita and her beauty made him feel nothing, and he wondered if he could even perform with her, much less spend all night trying to please her.
He had left Brita and gone to Jura to tell her she was right about the Vatell queen, but then Jura had said she wanted out of their marriage.
Jura, his Jura, who yelled and fought, had shed tears at the mere mention of the name of the man she loved.
Rowan remembered too clearly how he had felt the night he had heard her say she hoped he would never touch her.
He had made his vow to God then gone home and brooded for weeks.
But when he saw her again, he had been overcome with the power of her. He wanted to touch her, kiss her, hold her, caress her. But she was so cold to him, never trusting him, always against him, while he lay awake at night just looking at her.
And now she wanted to end their fragile marriage. She wanted to get away from him completely.
So be it, he thought angrily. He wasn’t going to force her to stay with him, and if she wanted to go back to another man, he wasn’t going to stop her. He would marry Brita and he would somehow make himself content.
He moved away from the tree and started back to the hut. He must tell Brita that he would marry her.
· · ·
“You are a fool of an Englishman,” Jura hissed. “You know nothing of our ways.”
“Can you say nothing else to me?” Rowan said back to her, glaring.
They were in the woods before the hut saddling their horses and making ready for the ride back to the Irial border.
Behind them were a hundred Vatell guards who looked at Rowan and Jura as if they were snake spit.
And behind the guard were a hundred and fifty young men and women.
Brita had given no persuasive speech to her people but had ordered her guard to gather suitable men and women and bring them.
Many of them sported bruised bodies and the women’s faces were tearstained.
“Brita will not help you in your plan to unite the tribes,” Jura said. “She hopes to join forces with the Irials and conquer the whole of Lanconia, and when all is hers, she will turn on the Irials. I tell you that she hates the Irials. Thal killed her husband.”
“She will have a new husband now,” Rowan said coolly, “and a lusty one will drive away her memories of a dead one.”
“If she does not displease you and you make no vows to God,” Jura said. “You brag of your vigor but I have seen none of it. Perhaps I should pity Brita, but I am more concerned with what you will do to our country. Too many people trust you. And now you are fool enough to trust her.”
“Perhaps you are merely jealous,” he said.
“Of what? I have been married to you and I know the loneliness of that marriage. Perhaps I should warn Brita that you are without substance.” She swung into the saddle of her horse and looked down at him.
“You are useful to her now, so you are safe, but watch your back for her blade when she thinks you are of no more use to her.”
Jura rode to the edge of the clearing and turned and watched the Vatells as they also watched her.
Brita, this time in a gown of yellow wool with a circlet set with rubies about her head, emerged from the peasant’s hut and mounted her horse.
Rowan rode to her side and Brita threw a look of triumph toward Jura as she extended her hand and Rowan kissed it.
Jura turned away and urged her horse forward.
She dreaded the long journey home and she dreaded the looks on people’s faces when Rowan announced he was setting her aside.
It would be easy for him to do. All he had to do was say she was unpleasing to him, and if Jura were examined and found to be a maiden, he would have no problem in having the marriage dissolved.
But Jura knew that if Rowan set her aside Daire would not be able to marry her. She could marry a lesser man but not a prince like Daire, for she would be tainted goods. But she would not tell Rowan that. Better that she had some pride, and if he did not want her, let him think another man did.
Rowan rode beside Brita while Jura rode behind them surrounded by Vatell guardsmen, the quiet, subdued Vatell people in the rear.
Brita was looking at Rowan as if she were starving and he were a royal banquet, and he found her stares unnerving.
“How did ugly old Thal breed something like you?” she said seductively, looking at his hair as if it were gold.
“My mother’s people were quite fair,” he said quickly. “Your son, Daire, will no doubt come to the wedding festivities. You must be looking forward to seeing him.”
“I am looking forward to seeing all of you. That will be our wedding night also.”
“And Jura’s to Daire,” Rowan said under his breath.
Brita laughed. “She will not be allowed to marry my son. My son is a prince. Perhaps, if he is strong enough, he will succeed me. He will not put a woman on the throne beside him who has been once rejected by a king. Why, the girl is so undesirable she cannot get a lusty man like you to bed her. She is a useless female.”
Rowan opened his mouth to defend Jura but he thought better of it. He smiled at Brita. “But Daire loves her and she him. They were children together and I think they mean to have each other.” He tried to keep the resentment out of his voice.
Brita gave him a calculating look. “Do you care for this woman who you refuse to bed? It is Irial law as well as the law of all Lanconia that if a woman is set aside because she is not pleasing to her husband then she cannot marry a man of the highest rank. My son is a prince and has never been married. Jura cannot become his wife.”
“Jura does not know this,” Rowan said.
Brita laughed. “Of course she does.” Her face changed.
“Do you mean to go back on our bargain?” She halted her horse, and there was much noise and confusion as the people behind them also stopped.
“If you mean to keep this woman, tell me now,” she said, her eyes sparkling hatred.
“I do not mean to surrender my people to some English king and his Irial bride. Either I am to be queen of all Lanconia or I return now to my own city.”
In that instant, Rowan knew Jura was right: Brita meant to rule all of Lanconia and she meant to do it alone. A woman who left her own son in the hands of the enemy would have no qualms about killing a husband who stood in the way of her goal.
He smiled radiantly at her and reached out to take her hand and kiss the palm.
He looked at her through his lashes and lowered his voice.
“Have a child when I can have a woman?” he asked.
He watched as Brita calmed and he realized how great her vanity was.
Jura was half Brita’s age and, to Rowan’s eyes, twice her beauty, but Brita was ready to believe that a man would choose her over Jura.
Perhaps Brita’s experience and power would appeal to some men, but Rowan did not want to compete with his wife.
Brita smiled and urged her horse forward. “We will make a good pair, you and I. Perhaps we will not wait until the wedding night to taste of each other.”
Rowan smiled at her but the smile did not extend to his eyes. “Tell me how a woman as beautiful as you came to command the Vatells.” He guessed right in thinking that the woman would love to talk about herself. She droned on with a hundred, “And then I’s” and gave Rowan time to think.
So! Jura could not marry Daire and she well knew it.
“Magnificent,” he murmured to Brita.
If Jura could not marry Daire, then she wanted out of her marriage to Rowan for another reason, either to give Rowan his freedom or because she truly hated him. But Rowan could not believe she hated him. She could not react to his touch as she did if she hated him.
“You are as intelligent as you are beautiful,” he said to Brita.
Was it his vow to God? Rowan thought. Surely she understood knightly vows. Every Englishwoman understood them. Englishwomen wanted knights to make vows to them.