The Medieval Hearts Series by Laura Kinsale

Author:Laura Kinsale
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
Published: 2017-07-26T16:00:00+00:00

* * *

No tears greeted Ruck when he went to Melanthe’s chamber. She stood waiting in her linen smock, her hair loose, a phantom in the light of a single candle, as dry-eyed as the white falcon that stood motionless on its block.

"Don’t tarry away from me," she said angrily. "Where have you been?"

"Below, my lady. They’ve carried the coffin out."

"Without doubt, that couldn’t come too soon." She held herself straight and distant, without advancing to him. Ruck closed the door and stood with his back to it. She was ever difficult in such a mood; he recognized it, but didn’t know the remedy.

"Say me what happened in truth," she demanded. "Who killed him?"

"No man. Donna Cara was with him on the wharf at your brewery place. She bolted away, and he caught her sleeve. The cloth parted. She heard the splash." Ruck gave a slight shrug. "And we returned to find him drowned."

Melanthe stared at him. Then she laughed and closed her eyes. "It is too witless."

"Too witless it was that you chained me to a wall, my lady," he said tautly, "but God or the Fiend has him now, and it’s too late for my vengeance."

She lifted her lashes. "Would you have tortured him, green sire?" she asked in a scoffing tone. "Torn him limb by limb in pieces? Only for me?"

"Melanthe," he said, "don’t be this way tonight."

"What way?’’ she demanded, turning from him. She went to the bed and flung back the sheets, sitting down on the edge of it, her bare feet on the board.

"His."

She pressed her toes downward, her feet curving until they showed white. Her eyes seemed too large and dark to be human. She was like an elven, elegant and sheer, as if light would pass through her.

"How would you have me, then?" she asked. "Disporting? Meek? A worthy goodwife, or a whore? I can be any—or all, if you like."

"Readily I’d have you in a sweeter temper, my lady."

She threw herself backward onto the bed, lying among the sheets. "That’s all? How simple." She made a web of her hands and flung them wide. "There. I am sweet. I am honey. Come and taste me."

Ruck unbuttoned his surcoat and dropped it with his belt and sword over a chest. At the harsh clatter of the gold links, she sat up again.

"Faithly, a man of swift reply," she said mockingly.

Ruck continued to divest himself. When he was naked he went to the bed and took her down with him on it. He couldn’t speak to her, or he would shout. He opened his mouth over hers, kissing deep. She arched her body up beneath him, her hands greedily about his loins to pull him into her.

Delicious lust possessed him, compounding with his anger. He used her without indulgence, taking no time but for himself. Still she inhaled and dug her nails into him and spread her legs to twine them about his. She pulled frantically at him, her hands gripped in his hair so hard that it hurt.

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