Читать книгу The Flower And The Sword - Jacqueline Navin - Страница 12

Closing her eyes, Lily wished fervently that her ears had deceived her, that Rogan had not discovered her in this humiliating position. After a minute, she rose and stood before him like a penitent child.

“Well?” he prodded. “Are you still angry?”

“N-no,” she stammered.

“I should not have been so boorish. It was rude of me to ask such an unseemly question. However, I could not resist, and sometimes when men and women are alone, strange things are said. Even stranger done. I suppose that is why fathers are so determined to keep their daughters locked away.” His eyes held a curious blend of sincerity and laughter. “Your father should take better care to keep you locked away, you know. Your freedoms, meager though they are, do tempt me.”

“Oh,” Lily said, surprised by this contrite statement. She had been afraid he would tease her.

“So, do you forgive me?”

“I do,” she agreed. Digging the toe of her slipper in the dirt, she added, “I suppose I overreacted a bit. But you took me by surprise.”

“What a shame, and when I was enjoying our conversation so much. I was sorry when you left.”

She eyed him speculatively. “Sometimes I think you mock me.”

“What?” he said, brows shooting up in surprise. “I, mock you? Why Lily, it is you who mock me to accuse me of being insincere. I speak my mind, though it might seem dense to you. But, I am only a soldier. I can only make the excuse that I am crude and unused to the company of ladies such as yourself.”

“Oh, you are far from crude. If you never thought yourself charming, then you do not know yourself as well as you think. And I believe you are adequately acquainted with the company of ladies.”

“But none such as yourself,” he qualified. “And I do admit I tease you. I confess I rather enjoy your reaction. There is so much pretense and posturing between men and women, and I have little tolerance for it. I like the way you are so honest in your responses.”

Feeling as though her breath had been stolen away by the unexpected compliment, Lily blushed. “I suppose I am to blame as well for our misunderstanding.” She shot him a mischievous look from beneath her lashes. “I have been warned to beware of gardens in the evening and serpent-tongued rogues.”

“So you think me a rogue, do you?” He laughed, as if that were the most ridiculous thing he ever heard.

The glow from last night was stealing over her again. She felt her earlier caution desert her. Tilting her head to one side, she gave him an assessing look.

“Once,” she said slowly, “when I was a child, some traveling troubadours and jugglers came to the castle. My mother was alive then, and she adored such entertainments. We had a celebration, a fair with exotic acts and sights. One of the attractions was a man from the East who wore no shirt and had a great linen wrapped around his head with a gigantic ruby in it. Catherine insisted it was merely glass, but I always liked to think that it was real. His skin was darker than the field workers. He would play his flute a certain way to make a snake rise up out of the basket he had with him. The snake was so enraptured by the song that it was rendered harmless. It did his bidding, and he played his flute to command the snake to rise and fall.”

Rogan looked at her. He was standing so close. He still had not replaced his shirt and his hair was still tousled and damp. He was so appealing. She was acutely aware of every aspect of his body. Something inside her ached, making the little distance between them almost painfully undesirable. Lily knew if he made a move to close the gap, she would not be able to recapture her indignation from last night. There was something pulling her toward him, and she was losing both her ability and her desire to deny it.

“Why do you tell me this tale?” he murmured.

“Because I sometimes feel with you that I am that snake and you are that man with the flute and…” She could not finish.

Rogan pulled his shirt over his head. When that was done, he explained, “I thought I had better minimize my similarity to the bare-chested Saracen.” His eyes were warm, those eyes that looked like a wolf’s. It made her shiver.

“You say the most astonishing things,” he murmured. “Do you not know the coquette’s teasing ways, the power of the great eyelash-flutter maneuver, how to purse your lips in a flattering pout?” At first, Lily thought he was admonishing her for her forwardness, but the gentle smile that played on his lips reassured her. “You do none of these things. And yet, you achieve their goal with greater acuity than the most accomplished flirt. For you, it is natural, and that makes it all the more alluring.”

His hand came up to touch her cheek with the lightest whisper of touch. Her mind was muddled; she could not think of what she should do in the face of such boldness.

“You have called me a rogue, and I have to admit I have given you cause to suspect as much. But I am no romancer.” He added with a laugh, “And I am no snake charmer.”

“I should not have said that. Catherine is forever chiding me for being too bold.”

“And yet,” he said, “I find it a most endearing quality.” He paused, as if searching for the exact words. “I do not play fast and loose with the ladies, and I am not trying to seduce you, Lily.”

“That is a relief,” Lily said, vaguely disappointed.

“Since you have always been so honest with me, I will return the favor.”

His hand was moving ever so slightly over her cheek and imperceptibly his face seemed to be coming nearer. She fastened her eyes on his mouth.

“I cannot say that I have ever found another to interest me as you do,” he said quietly.

“You say that you are no charmer, but you use flattery well.”

“Is it flattery? I was merely being honest. Honesty can flatter, when it is complimentary. I say neither any falsehood nor do I try to persuade you with my words. I simply want you to know.”

“Then you do not mean for this honesty of yours to draw me to you?” she asked.

“Does it?”

She paused. “You know it does.”

His head lowered, and he said softly, “I am glad,” just before his lips touched hers.

She had never been kissed before. Besides her fantasy heroes, there had never been anyone who would have inspired maidenly dreams of sweet, sweeping love. Therefore, she was sadly unprepared for the deep flare of sensation as Rogan St. Cyr’s lips touched hers.

She couldn’t know how much he held back. He really only brushed his mouth against hers, sensing her inexperience. But for Lily it was an instantaneous leaping of sensation within her, a trembling excitement that sprang up somewhere low in her belly and flowed like molten fire through her limbs. When he made to draw away, she let out a small sound of protest and leaned forward in a motion that told him that he should not retreat, not yet. He obliged, his pleasant chuckle rumbling in his chest as he drew her closer into the tight circle of his arms.

There was no telling what would have followed if not for the shrill sound of Catherine’s voice calling for Lily. It was like a dousing of ice, that voice, and it made Lily start and pull away. She stumbled back, staring wide-eyed at Rogan as if suddenly shocked at what they had done. Her hand came up to her mouth, touching scalded lips in wonder.

She watched as his brows drew down, his expression changed to one of annoyance.

“Lily!” The call came again.

“She cannot find me here with you!” Lily whispered.

“Lily, calm down. You’ve done nothing wrong,” Rogan urged.

“There you are!” Catherine called. Lily whirled around to find her sister standing only a few feet away. In an instant, Catherine’s eyes flickered over her, then darted to Rogan.

As if smelling Lily’s fear, her nostrils flared and her eyes narrowed. “What are you doing out here? You are supposed to be in the solar. Get back at once.”

Flushed and confused, Lily looked from one to the other. She pressed her hands to her face, backwheeling before turning to run into the keep.

Rogan watched Catherine glare after her younger sister, witnessing the unveiled moment of pure malice before she composed her face and turned back to him.

“Has my sister been bothering you, Lord Rogan?” she said smoothly. “I swear, I despair of her sometimes. She is such a child, and a bit unruly. I must speak to Father about her. We cannot have her pestering our guests in this manner.”

Rogan shrugged. “Lily was not bothering me. Do not trouble yourself.” As he made to brush past her, he said, “If you will excuse me—”

“Lord Rogan!” Catherine interrupted. “There is something I wish to discuss with you. I have been thinking on your family’s debt to me.”

Rogan stopped and turned slowly. “Debt? I am not aware we owed you any debt. No money had exchanged hands.”

“I was thinking more of a debt of decency,” she explained. “On account of my having been so mistreated by your brother.”

“I thought that issue was settled,” Rogan said tightly.

“My father and I were counting on the marriage to the duke. You cannot know what humiliation this has caused me. We had told our friends. When they learn of what has happened, there will be great scandal. I feel it is very unfair for my reputation to be stained so, especially when I have done nothing to deserve it.”

Rogan watched her carefully Instincts told him that. under the carefully groomed exterior, Catherine was as crafty as a fox. There was a vague threat here, one that did not escape his notice.

“I would think that your family would wish to make amends,” she said.

“That is why I am here. My brother’s choice of wife is as unfortunate for us as it is for you. I have no more love of scandal than you, Lady Catherine.”

She lowered her lashes. A calculated gesture, he was sure. An airy sigh issued from her ruby-red lips. “I know this has been difficult for you. I can see how much you desire to avoid ill feelings between your family and ours. My father sees it, as well. Yet, the matter still remains the same.”

Although he was irritated, Rogan forced himself to be calm. “Yes, it is true. You have been wronged, lady, and nothing I can do will change that.”

Her eyes sparkled at his kind words. Her posture changed, losing its rigidity and a beguiling smile appeared. “I am pleased you accepted my father’s invitation to stay,” she said.

Rogan nodded. “Yes, for a while.”

The smile deepened, but her eyes remained cold. “That is most gratifying. I think you shall enjoy our hospitality.”

“You have already been most gracious.” The compliment almost stuck in his throat. Remembering Andrew’s tactics the previous day, he added, “You have much cause for insult, no one would argue with that, but you have responded quite generously. I hope my family will be able to remain in your charitable esteem.”

She inclined her head at the praise. Rogan fought his irritation at this regal gesture.

“We shall see you at supper, then,” she said. “Father has planned some diverting entertainments. Good day, Lord Rogan.”

When she was gone, Rogan raked his hand viciously through his hair. What was she about? She had reminded him of the injustice done her, a way to hold sway over him because of it She wanted something, but he could not yet see what it was. Puzzled, Rogan mulled it over.

Damnation! he swore silently. The delicacy of this situation strained his meager skills at subtlety and intrigue, and rankled his pride. Andrew was right—Alexander should be here to prostrate himself for Marshand’s pardon. The mental image of his arrogant elder brother in such a state made him smile, then he shrugged off his resentment

It was done. And after all, it had occasioned him to meet the Lady Lily. He could never be sorry about that.

Catherine was aware of Rogan’s growing fondness for her sister, and it did not please her.

Very soon after Rogan’s arrival, Catherine’s cunning mind had begun to formulate a plan. At first, it was merely for retribution, but as it took shape and grew in proportion, Catherine knew she must have Rogan for her own.

Oh, he was marvelous. He was like no other male she had ever encountered, and she wanted him with a desire she had never before known. But she was not about to settle just for a second son, no matter how magnificent the man. And she knew of a way she would not have to settle at all. She could get everything that she wanted. Everything she had a right to. A rich, handsome husband. And the duchy.

After all, accidents happened all the time, didn’t they? Even to the Duke of Windemere. Misfortune could easily befall Alexander, leaving Rogan to inherit the title.

It would be relatively simple to arrange. As for the wife, the cherished little merchant’s daughter, she would be no obstacle. And if she were with child already, so much the better. Countless women and their infants were lost during a difficult birthing.

Oh, it was a lovely plan. And it would work.

Pausing by the looking glass in her chamber, she stared at her reflection. What in the world could the man see in stupid little Lily? Was she, Catherine, not the greater beauty? It was she, not Lily, who deserved Rogan. She had always known she was destined for greatness. Even as a child. Her mother had tried to dissuade her of her superiority, but she had only made Catherine hate and pity the foolish woman’s lack of insight. When she had died, it was a relief. Without a moment of grief, Catherine had easily assumed her mother’s position in the family and went to work, preying on her father to secure her a future worthy of her.

She would not allow herself to be cheated of it now.

Her door opened and a dark-haired man slipped into her chamber. Catherine did not turn around. He came up behind her, slipping her arms about her waist and pulling her stiff body up against his.

“Ah, you are so tense, ma chérie,” he whispered into her ear. Annoyed, Catherine turned away, but he pulled her back roughly. He chuckled. “You are in a mood. Does Phillippe not know how to soothe you when you are like this?”

Despite his smooth words, his hand crudely slipped between her legs. Catherine stiffened but did not push him away.

“You called for me,” Phillippe purred. “You need me tonight.”

His hand began to move in a rhythmic motion, and gradually Catherine relaxed against him. “Ah, that is good to relieve what is on your mind.”

“Shut up and take off your clothes,” Catherine snapped. She tugged off her own dress, carelessly casting aside the expensive garment and her costly jewels. She stood by the fire and watched Phillippe come to her. When he took her in his arms, she closed her eyes. Instead of his swarthy complexion, she envisioned a more bronze tone. Broader shoulders, thicker arms, hair a rich russet and eyes the haunting gray of the wolf. Tonight she would let Phillippe bring her body relief, but in her mind it would be Rogan making love to her.

Enguerrand Marshand was not a stupid man. He had many faults, and to his credit he was even aware of most of them, but lack of mental acuity was not one. Thus, he was well aware of his eldest daughter’s calculating nature. In fact, he quite approved of it most of the time. She took after him in many regards, and he liked to think that her shrewdness was one of them.

He was also aware of her cruelty, but he preferred to think of it as more a lack of sensitivity. That quality he did not lay claim to. He did not approve of it, but he accepted it as part of Catherine. No one was perfect, after all.

Pride was taken in the sweet blessing of Elspeth. Another man might resent the third of a trio of daughters most of all; the last chance at a son and heir gone. But Enguerrand doted on his youngest. She was an extraordinary child, had been since birth. Serene, with a wisdom beyond her years yet ever innocent, he cherished her. As much as he loved her, he could not bear to grant her only wish. To send Elspeth to the convent would be to lose the only joy in his life.

As for Lily, he gave his middle daughter little thought. She had always been stubbornly independent, not anything like his beloved Elspeth. Nor was she cunning like himself, like Catherine. She was more like his wife, whom he had married in accordance with his parents’ wishes and never understood. So, he had mostly left Lily alone, trusting Catherine to see to her rearing, and never really giving her much thought.

Which was why he was so surprised when Rogan asked to marry her.

Catherine wanted him. She had come to him and said she would take Rogan as husband. Knowing well the machinations of his daughter’s nimble mind, he sensed that she had strong reasons for wanting the match, and so he had agreed.

What he had never considered was that Rogan would not want Catherine. When Enguerrand broached the subject, Rogan simply said, “I must decline.”

Enguerrand pressed him for an explanation, but the man only shrugged, offering only that Catherine was not to his liking.

Enguerrand grew irate. “You insult me, St. Cyr. Your brother deals dirty with me, now you refuse to make the matter right. Good God, you had the gall to best the Dane. Do you not even have the decency to lose to your host’s champion?”

“I never lose, not even on purpose,” Rogan answered calmly.

“The only person who has shown me respect has been young Andrew. Yes, Andrew. You may not think much of him, judging by that look on your face, but the young priest is the only one who has gone out of his way to treat me with deference.”

Rogan maintained a stony silence.

“You have done nothing to mend the breach between our families. For all of your talk of wanting to preserve the goodwill of the Marshands, you are doing nothing to secure it.”

It was a heavy threat. Again, Enguerrand was not stupid. He knew this man wanted peace. Desperately. Enguerrand pressed his advantage. “I have shown great restraint, giving you the chance to redeem yourself, and you flaunt this chance and insult Catherine. That is two rejections from you St. Cyrs. That hardly bodes well for reconciliation. Tell me, Lord Rogan, what do you find objectionable about my daughter?”

After a pause, Rogan answered carefully, “Nothing objectionable, I assure you.” He seemed to wrestle within himself for a long moment. “It is just that I would ask you to extend your generosity once more,” he said at last, “and give to me Lily’s hand instead.”

Enguerrand was astonished. “Lily? Why do you want her?”

“I had been thinking of it in any case, but your proposition forces me to act more quickly than I would have liked.”

“You want Lily?”

“She has impressed me favorably, and she seems more of a wife to suit my particular temperament Catherine is lovely, well-bred and exemplary in every way. But she is too fine and would require attention I cannot give her. I am not a duke, but merely a soldier.”

“A damn fine warrior, I would say,” Enguerrand said, despite himself. “Lily, eh?”

Rogan nodded. “Yes. Surely you cannot deny she is beautiful, but more importantly, I must say I find her enchanting. On the few occasions I have spoken to her, I have been greatly impressed with her spirit and interesting mind.” A slow smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I shall certainly find it no hardship to take her to wife.”

Enguerrand shook his head and muttered something unintelligible.

Rogan continued, “I believe she would be favorably disposed to my offer.”

That aspect of the bargain had not occurred to Enguerrand, nor did he much care. He rubbed his bristled chin. This Rogan St. Cyr’s choice of Lily he certainly could not understand. And Catherine would be furious. Still there was no reason to refuse. He gained his ends just as well with the second daughter as the first. And with Lily married off, he still had Catherine to bargain with in a future alliance. Perhaps another powerful family could be approached.

“All right then, let us discuss the bride-price.”

Rogan held up a hand. “In the interest of healing the wounds of our families, I will waive the dowry. And as my new father-in-law, I shall make, shall we say, a small gift to you in appreciation for your sacrifice of your daughter who is to become my wife.”

“But that is—”

“Unconventional, I know. But I insist.”

Enguerrand paused. The man was obviously trying to buy him, but it was unnecessary. Enguerrand had already agreed. What a fool!

“Very well,” Enguerrand said. “I shall announce it at once.”

“I wish to have the ceremony as soon as possible. Three weeks should be sufficient to have the banns read and make the necessary preparations. I have urgent business in the northern shires and must leave as soon as we can accomplish this.”

“Very good.” Enguerrand nodded. He rubbed his hands together, planning. He hardly noticed when Rogan took his leave.

This was unbelievable! To get a daughter married without a dowry was incredible enough, but to actually profit from the deal—marvelous!

Immediately, his spirits plummeted when he remembered Catherine. He dreaded telling her Rogan wished to marry her sister.

Suddenly Rogan’s bribe seemed not so foolish after all.