Chapter Four
It was difficult to describe the smell of their lovemaking; somewhere between animal fat and a rotting corpse. When the heavy breathing subsided and the sweat cooled, it always smelled the same. It was a foul stench, emitting from the foul depths of their warped relationship.
A woman stood by one of three lancet windows offering weak illumination into the richly-appointed chamber. The heavy oilcloth was pulled back, a cool breeze caressing her naked body as her lover languished on the massive bed behind her.
“They’ve finally arrived,” she said faintly. Perhaps a bit ominously.
The man on the damp, dirty sheets stirred a bit, eventually rising. He went to stand beside the woman, their gazes lingering on the activity in the bailey below.
“They are late,” the man said, turning away in search of his clothes.
The lady remained focused on the scene, trying to catch a glimpse of the woman she knew to be in the party. A woman she hadn’t yet decided to love or hate.
“This marriage, Edmund.” She turned from the bright day, watching the man secure his hose. “You promised me that it would be in name only. Isn’t that what you said, dear brother?”
He nodded, scratching his scalp before collecting his fine tunic. “Father accepted the pledge on behalf of a gambling debt, darling. I had no choice but to agree and well you know it.”
The woman’s naked body crossed the floor, a thin woman with tiny breasts. Even as her brother put his tunic on, she rubbed against him like a cat in heat. “You must consummate the marriage.”
“I am bound to.” He collected his gold-link belt. “For breeding purposes, of course. Once she’s pregnant, I shall forget I even have a wife.”
The woman smiled, rubbing her Venus Mound on his thigh and leaving a damp streak. “And return to me, where you belong,” she purred. “Into the arms of your beloved Johanne.”
Edmund raised an eyebrow at his younger sister.
The sister he had acquired when his father had married the wealthy widow Seymour those years ago, but his sister nonetheless.
Blood or marriage was of little difference to him.
“You would not be my beloved Johanne if Kirk were to show interest in you,” he said, slapping her on the buttocks.
When she yelped and moved away, he sat on the mattress to put on his boots. “He is the man of your dreams; not me.”
She continued to smile at him, rubbing her bum where he had smacked her.
“’Tis you who loves me best, Edmund. You always have.
Teaching me the ways of men and woman so my flesh would not be polluted by the touch of an outsider.
When Kirk finally comes to his senses, he’ll be pleased with the skills you have taught me. Won’t he, Edmund? Just like you said?”
Last boot in place, Edmund de Cleveley, Baron Bowland, rose from the bed and fixed his step-sister in the eye. “He shall be pleased. As pleased as I have been since you were eleven years old.”
Johanne’s smile broadened, rubbing herself against the canopy post and imagining it was Kirk. “And what of your new wife, Edmund? Will she be as pleasurable as me?”
“I am sure not. She’s a virgin; it’s guaranteed in the marriage contract. Silly, useless wench.”
Johanne’s smile faded, her unbalanced mind evident in the dull green eyes. “Can I wish her away if she displeases us both?”
“And how would she do that?”
“By disapproving of our relationship, of course. If she cannot be made to understand, might I wish her away like I have the others?”
Edmund paused by the door, studying the woman he couldn’t seem to be without.
It wasn’t as if he loved her; but, truly, he had never been without her.
The need to have her, to dominate her, had always been a part of his psyche.
To do without her would be like relinquishing a limb; so very necessary if he wanted to remain in control.
And this wishing away business; she had started it as a child, wishing animals away that displeased her.
A rabbit that bit her, a kitten that scratched.
As her step-brother and protector, Edmund had made sure the offensive beasts were removed and convinced Johanne that the powers of her mind had made it so.
But as she got older and her psychosis more evident, she took to wishing people away and it was Edmund obligation to continue what he had started.
“If she does not understand our relationship, then I will permit you to wish her away as you have done the others,” he said after a moment. “But not before she bears me a son. Until such time, Lady Micheline is safe from your wishing powers.”
Johanne seemed satisfied, lying down on the mattress and stroking herself intimately. “I have saved my wishing powers for those women who turn their attentions on Kirk. This will be the first time I have used them for you.”
Edmund lifted the bolt. “Patience, Johanne. Lady Micheline might work into our family quite nicely.”
“Mayhap.” Johanne closed her eyes as her orgasm began to build. Edmund paused, watching his step-sister manipulate herself. “If all else fails, mayhap I shall put the two of you in bed together and watch. And if Kirk is a good boy, I shall ask him to join me.”
“Kirk would never do such a thing,” she murmured. “He’s far too pure. He’s saving himself for me, you know.”
“You mean you have eliminated all competition.”
“I have had to.”
Gaze lingering on his sister as her frail mind lost itself in the throes of a powerful climax, Edmund turned and quit the room.
His virgin bride was waiting.
*
The first time Edmund beheld Mara, he immediately announced his satisfaction in his bride. Mara blushed as Kirk corrected his lord, introducing the Lady Micheline le Bec as the man’s intended. Edmund’s response couldn’t have been crueler had he slapped her.
It was obvious he wasn’t pleased. Micheline stammered through her gracious speech, her cheeks flushing madly and her hands trembling.
Mara remained astride her worn palfrey, fury such as she had never known filling her as Micheline offered herself to her displeased groom.
When the elder sister finished her speech and gave the man a timid smile, Edmund did nothing more than turn his back and return to the keep.
Leaving the escort party embarrassed and sympathetic, Kirk endeavored to make amends to the humiliated bride.
“Lord Edmund has never been the congenial sort, my lady,” he said apologetically. “But he is fair. In fact, I would be surprised if he did not apologize for his conduct at the feast tonight.”
Mara was off her palfrey, her bright blue eyes blazing. “There will be no feast!” she spat. “We’re going home, Sir Kirk, and you are going to take us. We’re not staying another moment where we’re not wanted.”
Kirk could hardly demand she control herself when Micheline had been righteously insulted. Maintaining his calm, he grasped Mara by the arm.
“You are indeed wanted, my lady,” he said quietly. “I realize it is difficult to believe given Lord Edmund’s reaction, but you must trust me when I say that he has been anticipating your arrival.”
“He was anticipating the arrival of a beauty,” Micheline said softly, turning for her mare. “I do not meet his criteria, Sir Kirk. Mayhap it would be best if you return us home.”
Kirk watched the lady move for her horse, her movements slow and shameful. His heart ached for her, another strange emotion he had never experienced. But, given Edmund’s character, he should not have been shocked by the man’s behavior. He should have expected it.
“I cannot, Lady Micheline,” he said quietly. “Only Lord Edmund can return you home. For now, I suggest you settle into your room and prepare for the evening’s meal.”
“Prepare for what? More humiliation?” Mara shook her head. “I shall not allow it, Sir Kirk. I shall cut the man’s heart out if he shames her again.”
Kirk raised an eyebrow. “Watch your tongue, lady. You speak of your benefactor.”
“I speak of an insensitive, boorish clod,” she snapped. “He’s no prize himself. What gives him the right to judge my sister’s appearance?”
Kirk drew a steadying breath. “Corwin,” he said slowly. “Please take Lady Micheline into the keep. I suspect Lady Valdine and Lady Wanda are waiting to show her to her chamber.”
“What of Lady Mara?” Niles did not like the look in Kirk’s eye. “I’d be happy to take….”
“I shall take her in hand.” Kirk cut him off. “You may disband the escort.”
Niles did not argue. Turning to the men-at-arms, he began to bellow orders as Corwin collected Micheline’s satchel from her horse.
There was a small wagon containing a few trunks and other personal items and he ordered several hovering servants to see to those things.
Grasping the red-cheeked bride by the arm, he escorted her past Kirk and Mara without a glance.
Mara watched her sister disappear into the castle. The moment Micheline vanished, she turned to Kirk.
“I do not care what you do to me, I am not going to apologize for my words,” she said in a low voice. “Your precious Lord Edmund is a fiend and if you expect me to….”
He cut her off by yanking her across the bailey.
His strides were long and Mara had to run to keep up.
Even as he pulled her to a side entrance that led into the castle, still, she refused to recant her words.
Just inside the door lay a cool, vacant corridor and he let go of her arm.
The moment he fixed her with his stone-gray gaze, however, apprehension began to simmer.
He did not waste any time. Planting himself on a stone seat jutting from the wall, he yanked Mara over his knee and tossed up her skirts.
Furious, not to mention terrified, Mara twisted and shrieked as he brought his gigantic palm to bear on her bottom not once, but twice.
Listening to her yelp, he paused briefly, his hand hovering above her reddened bum.
“I told you what would happen with your next infraction,” he growled. “No more unbridled words, no more rebellion. Do you understand me?”