The Devil Claims a Wife
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The church door opened and closed. A shadow moved nearby. Male footsteps moved closer and stopped a few paces away. She didn’t recognise them. It wasn’t a servant, for the man had spurs that clinked. She didn’t look up, but glanced sideways. She saw mud on his boots. The spurs were silver and glinted in the light slanting through the windows.
With a shock, she realised whose boots these were. Her intruder was neither friend nor stranger. Caution and propriety dictated she left his presence immediately, but something else, something far less familiar, kept her on her knees. What strange power did this man radiate that a mere glance or a small curve of his mouth could set her senses reeling this way? The very sight of him should send an unmarried young woman scampering for the safety of her home, but she couldn’t move.
He came and knelt beside her. Folding his hands in front of his face, he bowed his head, but she knew he wasn’t praying. His head was turned and he was looking at her with bold, unguarded interest. She kept her head determinedly down, hoping he would go away if she kept quiet.
She held her breath. There was a long silence. Unable to endure the suspense any longer, boldly she raised her head and met his bright gaze. She felt it as a shock right through her body. She found him poised, taut and still and dark as ever. But his expression was guarded. Guy was clean shaven. This startled her, for it made him seem much younger, and she saw that his chin was square and had a cleft in it. His mouth, wide, curved and passionate, was drawn thin at the corners and his heavy eyelids seemed as though they would never wholly lift again to disclose the vivid blue beneath.
When the beautiful bass voice murmured, ‘Forgive me for interrupting your prayers, but I saw you come in here and I wanted to speak to you’, the memory of that silken male touch when he had cupped her chin, the like of which she might never feel in the future closing in around her, was enough to dispel her irritation at being interrupted in her prayers. Her pulses had leaped to the thrill of it, and her body had tingled with a delicious urgency to experience more of the pleasure a man’s touch could evoke.
‘I beg your pardon, but I fail to understand what you can have to say to me. Indeed, your time must have been so taken up with your homecoming that I imagined you had forgotten I existed.’
He bent his head closer to her. The soft scent of violets that she exuded overlay the scent of incense in the church. ‘I haven’t forgotten. Nor have I forgotten what occurred in the forest.’
In one easy movement he got to his feet and, taking her hand, raised her up. Her dress was a startling slash of colour in the dim grey church. It was a dark red dress belted at the waist and the fine wool clung to her breasts and hips. She looked like a beautiful statue representing temptation, Guy thought.
He was so tall, way over six foot, that Jane had to tilt her head to look at his face.
‘I cannot stay long,’ he said. ‘Come outside where we can talk.’ Without waiting for her to reply, he took her hand and walked her to the door.
Once outside he pulled her into the dark shadow of the church. They were hidden from the road by thick yew trees.
Jane could not tell which sensation had more command of her senses—the horror of embarrassment or the ecstasy of being so close to him. It was as though she had never before been in the presence of a man. Guy St Edmond clouded her mind so that she had no clarity of judgement, no sense of direction.
Lifting her head, vowing she would not let him see how he affected her, Jane frowned in consternation. ‘Was it necessary to bring me out of the warmth of the church to this dark, dank spot?’
‘I wanted to speak to you alone. There’s less chance of being interrupted out here. My lady is displeased over something?’ he queried with a slight lift of his brow.’
For a moment Jane debated her answer. For the sake of pride, she could not tell him how well he disrupted her thoughts and that the calm serenity she displayed hid emotions that were well stirred up by the fact of his nearness. Trying not to think of how handsome he looked in his smooth-fitting hose and beautifully cut black tunic with gold embroidery, shielding herself against his mockery, she chose to attack rather than reveal her weakness. Was he playing upon her confusion for his own amusement? That there might be some truth in this stung her pride beneath the suspicion that he had been one step ahead of her all the time.
‘Please say what you have to say for I must be on my way. My mother is expecting me back at the house.’
Now he had her alone, Guy was in no hurry to be parted from her. His eyes passed over the shapely figure with warm admiration. The light breeze teased the fair tresses about her face and she paused to tuck the stray wisps beneath her plain headdress. With her arms raised, for a moment the bodice of her gown stretched tight across the slim back, reassuring him of the fact that her waist was naturally narrow. In his far-reaching travels he had seen his share of women and had been most selective of those he had chosen to sample. His experience could hardly be termed as lacking, yet it was hard in his mind that the delectable girl whom he scrutinised so carefully far exceeded anything he could call to mind.
Since returning to Sinnington Castle, as he strolled its corridors and chambers, he was inspired with a most gratifying sense of solid order and security. He was no longer a snivelling boy, sent away from his mother to become a knight. Now he was a powerful man who needed no one. And now that he had made his life just the way he wanted it, he had no intention of handing over to another proud and selfish lady the ability to disrupt his life.
But that wasn’t right, he thought. Jane Lovet wasn’t proud or selfish. She was lovely and virtuous, and as he’d heard in the woodland glade, she had a laugh so infectious she made him smile—and he wanted her with a desperate ardour that twisted him in knots of desire. These things were in the background of his mind, but he refused to concentrate on them. To do so would have meant that he was more than physically involved with her and that he refused to accept.
Aware of his scrutiny, Jane tilted her head to look at his face. ‘Please don’t look at me like that. Don’t you have a battle to fight or something?’
A smile touched his lips. ‘My apologies. I didn’t mean to stare. And in answer to your question, unless I am called upon by the king, I am done with fighting. Believe me, Jane, I shall not miss the cut and thrust of the campaign.’
‘Forgive me, but since you are a renowned soldier with a reputation for shedding blood and as black as Satan’s, I find that difficult to believe. Have you come to church to repent of your sins?’
Chuckling softly, his smiling eyes captured hers and held them prisoner until she felt a warmth suffuse her cheeks. ‘If I were to do that, I would be here until doomsday and beyond. But I am not alone in leading a sinful life and there is nothing unusual for a soldier to lay down his sword. A fighting man often decides to abandon his life of warfare and seek forgiveness for his sins. What of your own family, sweet Jane? Your own brother was an ardent Lancastrian fighting his cause.’
Sadness clouded her eyes and her heart was heavy on being reminded of her wild, handsome brother. But when she spoke there was bitterness and accusation in her voice. ‘It is no secret that Andrew was a cavalry man and a Lancastrian, or that when he was taken prisoner he was sentenced to death—on your orders, I believe.’
Guy’s eyes narrowed and his jaw tensed. He did not deny her accusation. ‘War is never honourable, Jane. You brother was a brave man, I have no doubt, who did his duty as he conceived it to be—as did hundreds of others at Towton.’
‘Yes, he did. You will consider him a traitor, but he was a beloved brother and my family miss him dreadfully.’
‘I, too, lost my older brother, so I can empathise with your loss. But life has to go on and for me the time has come for me to consider my future. I am home to stay and find my thoughts turning to the softer aspects of life—and a woman in my bed.’
Jane’s cheeks stung with heat. ‘Do you have a lady in mind?’
His eyes locked on hers, implacably he stated, ‘I do. You.’
Chapter Three
For a moment Jane’s mind went completely blank. ‘Me?’ She laughed nervously, completely thrown by his remark. ‘But that is ridiculous. It cannot possibly be.’
Guy’s eyes narrowed and his voice took on an odd note of determination. ‘Will you not accept my proposal to become my mistress?’ he asked sotto voce.
Jane felt like she had been shot with a crossbow at point-blank range. She was shocked into instant reply. ‘You insult me, sir. You will not take me to your bed, nor will you take me by force. I will not be your mistress.’
‘You shall, Jane. I swear.’
It was a most arrogant declaration and too much to contemplate with all the emotions roiling inside her. She did not move, but Guy saw her face set in a dreadful silent stare and felt the shudder that went through her body as clearly as though she had been touching him instead of separated from him by a full two paces. ‘How will you do that? Will you command me, as is your right?’
‘No, Jane, I ask it. You seem distressed,’ he remarked, observing the tension in her face.
‘Distressed?’ she railed. Her colour mounted high in her cheeks and warmed her ears as her temper escalated to unparalleled heights. ‘I am anything but distressed, my lord! Can you not understand that I am furious?’
‘I understand perfectly,’ he said in a silky, courteous voice. ‘I can imagine that a young woman does not take a step like this without a little apprehension. But there is no need to get things out of proportion.’
He was obviously trying to reassure her, but he was mistaken if he thought he could do that—as mistaken as he was devious. ‘Out of proportion? You propose that I be your mistress and you have the audacity to say that I have got everything out of proportion!’ She spoke bitterly as the full force of what he expected of her hit her with all its humiliating clarity. ‘It isn’t your reputation that will be slaughtered. It will be mine.’
The muscles in Guy’s jaw clenched tightly, banishing any trace of softness from his too-handsome face, and in a tone of calm finality he stated, ‘People will think whatever they want to think.’
‘Why?’ Jane cried passionately. ‘Is it because you want me, or to ensure that my father knows his place—to affirm your lordship’s power over your serfs? What do you expect of me? Do you suppose that I will fulfil such a bargain? For whatever reason, there is no justifying this. You are a conniving, black-hearted scoundrel. It is dishonourable behaviour and absolutely unacceptable and an outrage. I will not be used in this way. I am disgusted by your monstrous egotism your actions have revealed.’
It gave Jane a kind of awful joy to hurl the innermost feelings of her heart in wild confusion at the feet of this unfeeling man. If he were to flay her alive, he could not hurt her more than he had done already.
One sardonic brow lifted over mocking blue eyes. ‘I mean to have you, Jane.’
‘How? Will you rape me? For that is the only way you will have me—and I will fight you all the way. You can count on that, my lord. I find it insulting to me and dishonourable of you. I had not expected you to stake your claim on me quite so callously. By your actions, were I to do as you ask, the shame and humiliation heaped not only on me, but Richard and my family also, would be complete. Your arrogance is unbelievable! I don’t know why you are doing this, but whatever the reason it matters little to me whether you are known henceforth as the least honourable lord in Christendom.’
Guy stepped close—and Jane retreated from those suddenly fierce eyes. ‘It was never my intention to insult you—your future husband is another matter.’
‘My feelings for Richard are my concern,’ she said tonelessly. ‘I cannot—no, I will not be your lover or anything else. What you ask of me is a grave sin. I will not shamelessly dishonour Richard or my parents.’
‘I believe your father and I could come to an understanding.’
The bright hue of Jane’s cheeks and the flashing of her eyes gave evidence to the effect of his savage, cutting words. ‘You beast,’ she hissed. ‘Am I a serf to be sold or bartered at will? You are frivolous when there is nothing to be lost for you. You would take me for your own pleasure and afterwards you could just as well flee and leave me big with child.’ She tossed her head angrily. ‘You are just like all men—free to your every whim.’
‘Free!’ Guy gave a derisive snort. ‘Nay, Jane. I am not free.’ He leaned close to her and his voice rose as he chafed under the lash of her words. ‘And I would not flee from you. Let me assure you I would not. Do you think I would put so little value on you that I would so lightly regard your state?’
Jane stared at him. Guy St Edmond was shameless. ‘Is it your desire to see me shamed?’ she asked him.
‘I hope that won’t happen.’
‘I fear it will. I would have to live with what you would do to me for the rest of my life. I will be a fallen woman. Impure. You deserve no respect for this.’
‘Perhaps not. I’m afraid I might find it hard to find peace away from you. You are very well aware of the effect you have on me—surely you recognise desire in a man’s eyes?’
Jane stared at him, wondering that he could speak like this to her, with such assurance, as if he believed she would not be able to resist him. Vaguely disturbed by his words, she felt a strange emotion swell within her breast. His voice was at once brusque and warm, imperious and tender. She must fight against this fascination he was beginning to exert over her.
‘If you still require a mistress, then you must look elsewhere.’
‘I have no desire to look elsewhere.’ He took her hand and traced the lines on its palm. He felt her response and smiled. ‘See how easily I touch you,’ he murmured, ‘how recklessly I make you come to me and then tease you—how I pluck your strings, as if you are but a lute.’
The intimacy of his touch and his voice, the suggestion of playing her like a lute, both excited and shamed her. ‘You jest with me, my lord.’
He laughed, a robust sound as mighty as he was. ‘Ah, Jane, I never jest on matters as serious as this.
‘What an impatient nature you have,’ she remarked. ‘You certainly have an aptitude for spontaneity. But as I said, you must look elsewhere.’
‘Why should I do that when I have perfection right here? My dear Jane, you look like something a lonely man far from home would dream about in the small hours of the morning. Had I been able to store such a memory in my heart years ago, it would have surely given me hope in times of need.’
Jane gave him a scornful look. ‘Your words flow like honey from your lips, my lord, that it makes me wary. I am nothing to you. You do not know me. We are strangers and I have certainly not sought your attention or encouraged you in any way. Why are you doing this?’
He shrugged. ‘Several reasons—some I do not understand myself. You have attracted my attention. You have excited my compassion for your position, inspired my sympathy for your needs—’
‘And for this you want me to become your mistress?’ she remarked with a sneer.
‘Aye, Jane, and the fact that you remain in my memory long enough for me to do something about it.’
‘Then if this is the way you go about trying to woo a lady, you haven’t a prayer of success.’
‘I haven’t?’
‘No. Based on what I know of you, I would not be in the least surprised if you were to toss the lady over your shoulder and carry her off, and, if she still refused your amorous intentions, to lay her over your knee and beat her into submission.’
For some reason her words brought a mocking gleam and a narrowing to his eyes. ‘Have a care what you say, Jane, lest you give me food for thought. I admit that I have erred, having spent so much time in conquest to bring peace. As a boy I saw little of my parents. When I was seven I was sent to live with a noble family in Hertfordshire. I became a page and had to wait on lords and ladies. I also learned to fight. At fourteen I became a squire and at twenty-one a knight. I’ve spent so much of my life in conquest that I have much to learn when it comes to the finer points of wooing a lady. One hasn’t the opportunity to meet very many suitable ladies on the battlefield.’
‘Then perhaps you should turn you mind to seeking a wife, my lord, instead of a mistress. A wife would satisfy your baser needs and provide you with heirs.’
‘That is what I intend.’
‘Isn’t it the practice for nobles to select their wives with an eye to forming political alliances?’
‘It is. I am the last of the line. I have no siblings or nephew to leave my inheritance to, which is why I must marry a woman who can give me sons to inherit my demesne and carry on my name. I have to rebuild.’
‘And a cloth merchant’s daughter would never do,’ Jane responded sneeringly. ‘It appears to have slipped your mind that my future husband may not take kindly to me being another man’s mistress—however noble that man may be.’
‘You don’t want to wed Aniston. I see it in your eyes. Your life is not yours to order, is it, sweet Jane?’
‘What woman’s life is?’
It was true. She lived in a fine house and had the love of her family. But the price she paid was that her life was not hers to order. Her father’s word was law. He commanded. She must obey.
‘Aniston can soon be got rid of,’ Guy suggested with ease. ‘You can be assured I would not be a poor substitute. Aniston will get over his disappointment.’
‘I fear it is you who will be disappointed, sir,’ she told him curtly.
‘Truly?’ He ambled a few steps closer, regarding her with deliberation. ‘I cannot think why, when the heavens have seen fit to reward me for whatever reason with a glimpse of the fairest maid that ever graced my sights.’
Though she roiled inside, Jane feigned control, rolling her eyes in seeming humour. ‘If nothing else, you were born with a smooth tongue, sir. But since there is no one here you seek to impress, you may as well save your pretty words for another who is willing to listen.’
He took another step and Jane was very aware that the closer he came, the softer and lower pitched his voice became, and, as he moved closer still, she felt a frisson of velvet along her spine. ‘Are you so sure you know me well enough to know whom it is I seek to impress?’
‘I have no wish to know you, sir.’
‘Ah,’ he said, with an unmistakable trace of amusement. ‘In which case, sweet Jane, I acknowledge my poor judgement and can only wonder at the reason which brings you to an empty church, at a time when most brides would be preparing for marriage and dreaming sweet bridal dreams. Is it God’s comfort you seek to calm your nerves of what is to come?’
‘I marvel at your intimate knowledge of brides. Speaking only for myself, I often come to the church when it is quiet to pray.’
‘For a young woman to spend so much time on her knees, perhaps you should reconsider your future and become a nun instead of a wife.’
‘I have often been accused of being wilful and disobedient. I fear I would make a very bad nun. And it is not uncommon for a bride to be nervous as her wedding day approaches. One must cope with one’s nerves as best one can and a wedding causes so much happy anticipation …’
The words nearly choked her, but she would not have him know the extent of her desperation. She had no happy dreams of the future and soon more would be taken from her, but she would not surrender the battered remnants of her pride.
Guy arched a dark brow. ‘Happy anticipation? Forgive my impertinence, Jane, but I seem to recall that the last time I saw you with Aniston, he was on the point of assaulting you. Is it that which inspires such happy anticipation? Or was my judgement also faulty? Maybe you were not in need of rescuing after all and would have enjoyed the rough and tumble of his lusts.’
Jane tensed as he came closer still, reminding herself it was past time for her to take leave of him, and she told herself she would, but she was reluctant to do so. His closeness was forcing her heart to beat even more rapidly than before, something she would not have thought possible. She asked herself what was wrong with her, for if there was ever a time when she ought to be erring on the side of caution, it was surely now.
She lowered her eyes. ‘What happened yesterday was between Richard and myself,’ she told him. ‘Any differences of understandings we have will be rectified by us.’
All trace of mockery had vanished. Guy’s blue eyes were as hard as granite, as was his voice. He was clearly angry and his tone was deadly quiet. ‘Differences of understandings? Tell me this. Has Aniston ever threatened you with violence? Have you ever felt yourself to be in direct physical danger from him?’
Jane was determined to maintain her composure, though the effort cost her dearly. She had been disturbed by Richard’s behaviour and felt nothing but dread for what he would do to her on her wedding night. But knowing how important this marriage was to her father, she had no choice but to defend him.
She gave a half-hearted shrug. ‘No. I think it was a matter of Richard being too eager. He believes that once a couple is engaged, they are considered as good as married. He is not alone in that.’
She could see that the anger she’d heard building in Guy St Edmond’s voice had become etched on his face in hard lines as he responded to her words. ‘Which is why a good many brides are already pregnant when they make their vows to the priest. There are things in this world that are worth the waiting.’
‘Since you have just proposed that I become your mistress, that makes you a hypocrite,’ Jane retorted sharply.
He gave her a lopsided grin. ‘I’ve had my moments.’
She gave him a questioning look. ‘Yesterday you implied that you knew Richard—or know of him. I am curious.’
‘I know Lord Lambert. He was a good friend of mine. We fought many a battle together. Aniston was a squire in his household. We never met, but I knew of him.’
‘I see. And what happened to Lord Lambert—you speak of him in the past tense.’
‘He did not live long following the tragic death of his beloved daughter Lucy.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Jane said, having no desire to pry into what was clearly a private matter. Unless … Her eyes flew to his. ‘Was Richard involved in what happened to her?’
He shook his head. ‘I can’t say. But you must understand my concern.’
‘I—I do care for Richard,’ she lied in desperation, haltingly, unconvincingly, tears welling up in her eyes which she immediately blinked away. There was a part of her, young woman that she was, that wanted to run home and fling herself on her bed and cry. But she could not do that. She wasn’t Blanche, who laughed and cried easily. ‘Please do not speak to me like this again. I will not listen.’
‘Damn it, Jane. I am no monster. Would you rather take that coarse, unsightly lout and nurture him with the sweet joys of wedlock than consider me? Are you mad? Aniston is to have what I want and silence on the matter will not make that fact any sweeter. You forget who you are dealing with. Do you not realise that as lord of this demesne, no man who lives on my land can marry off his daughter unless I allow it? I have the right to forbid your marriage to Richard Aniston.’
Jane paled, her eyes wide with disbelief. ‘You would not do that?’
‘It is within my power to do so—if I so wish.’
Jane was furious at what he was implying. Her angry eyes held his. ‘How could you even think of doing something so base? You may command your soldiers to your will, sir, but you have no such authority over me—and you have much to learn about courtship.’