Domning, Denise by Winter's Heat

Author:Winter's Heat [Heat, Winter's]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2011-11-21T01:07:21+00:00

Chapter 12

Rowena stood at her solar windows and stared out them without seeing. Her father was dead. How sad that he had died and she could feel nothing for him, not even relief at his passing. Then her heart lurched. What if her mother succeeded in making a pauper of her? What then would become of the fine Lady Graistan? She squeezed her eyes shut. With her wealth gone, he would soon find a convenient excuse, some previously undetected degree of relationship, and she would be lady no longer. What reason did he have to keep her? None.

She stumbled across the room to her prie-dieu and knelt before the tiny, candlelit altar. Her lips moved as she silently prayed, but there was no serenity for her to find this night. Suddenly, words welled up and spilled out of her. "Mary, Mother of God," she cried, "I do not want to lose him."

Lose him! She laughed at the irony of it. How could she lose what she'd never had? The arrogance of it stung her to the core. She'd set out to tie him to her so Graistan would be hers. Instead, he had humbled her as she had never dreamed possible. Warrior that he was, he'd breached her defenses and taken her as his own all the while holding himself aloof from her.

How could she have come to care for a man who'd ignored her, even shunned her, these last weeks? She sighed in sudden understanding. It had begun the day she'd arrived at Graistan, when the castle folk accepted her as their own and firmed when his son had become her heart. And what happened behind their closed bed curtains had finished it. He might hide behind the mask of hard and angry lord during the day, but beneath the cloak of darkest night in the silence of their bedchamber, he showed her his gentle tenderness. And after their loving was finished, when she met his gaze, his eyes were filled with a warmth meant only for her.

It had been easy to convince herself that in time he would accept her, even care for her, as the rest of Graistan had. But she had deceived herself and seen only what she chose to see. She was no more to him than a hide of land waiting to be plowed and made fruitful. When her usefulness was at an end, she would again be nothing to him. The pain in her heart grew until it became unbearable.

The door flew open without warning. She leapt to her feet, clutching her beads to her chest. It was her husband and his brothers. He managed the smallest glance at her. "Pour us all a cup of wine, will you, Rowena?" he asked blandly, then sat in one of the chairs.

Pain retreated into a steady, dull ache as she complied. Rannulf nodded in thanks as he took his cup from her. After she'd served the others she moved back to stand at the windows.

He sipped at his wine, then spoke.

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