When she wasn’t with Helen working on her new wardrobe, Liana was supervising the packing of her dowry. All the Neville wealth that was not in land was in portable goods. Gold plates and ewers were packed in straw and put into wagons, as were precious glass vessels. She took tapestries, linens, pieces of carved-oak furniture, candles, feather pillows and mattresses. There were carts full of rich fabrics, furs, a fat iron-bound chest full of jewels and another of silver groats.
“You will need everything,” Helen said. “Those men have not one comfort in their lives.”
Liana smiled at that because perhaps the comfort she brought would help her husband love her.
Helen saw Liana’s lovesick smile and groaned, but she didn’t try to talk to Liana again, as she’d seen how impossible it was to attempt to reason with her. Helen just helped to denude the Neville castle of its riches, and she gave Liana no more advice.
The wedding was to be a small one, as the Nevilles were not favorites among the aristocracy and royalty of the land, for Gilbert’s father had purchased his earldom from the king only a few years before he died. There were still many people who could remember when the Nevilles were merely rich, ruthless merchants charging five times what they paid for an item. Liana was glad for the excuse to save the expense of an enormous wedding celebration so she’d have more to take with her to the Peregrine castle.
Liana didn’t sleep much the night before her wedding. She kept going over in her mind the things she had learned about pleasing a husband, and she kept trying to visualize her new life. She tried to imagine lying in bed with the handsome Lord Rogan. She thought about his touching her and caressing her and saying tender words to her. She had decided not to be “married in her hair,” but to wear a jeweled headdress because she knew her long flaxen hair was her best feature and she wanted to share it with him and him alone on their wedding night. She imagined long walks together, as they laughed and held hands. She imagined sitting before the fire on a cold winter evening and reading aloud to him, or playing a game of draughts. Perhaps they’d play for kisses.
She smiled in the darkness at the thought of what he would say when he discovered he’d married the woman by the pool. Of course that woman had been a shrew, but Rogan’s wife would be the demure, quiet, loving Lady Liana. She imagined his gratitude when she changed those dirty, rough clothes of his for fine silks and wools. She closed her eyes for a moment and imagined how incredibly handsome he would be dressed in dark velvet, green perhaps, with a jeweled chain extending from one broad shoulder to the other.
She would introduce him to the pleasures of bathing with rose-scented oil in the tub. Perhaps afterward he’d rub oil into her skin, even between her toes, she thought with a sigh of heavenly pleasure. She imagined lying on a clean, soft featherbed and laughing together over t
heir first meeting—how childish they’d been not to have known at first sight that they were the love of each other’s lives.
Just before dawn she dozed off, a smile on her lips, only to be awakened moments later by an unearthly clatter in the courtyard below. By the sound of the shouts of men and the clank of steel, they were being attacked. Who had left the drawbridge down?
“Oh Lord, don’t let me die before I marry him,” Liana prayed as she leaped out of bed and began running.
In the hall, Helen was also running, as was half the household, it seemed.
Liana made her way through the chaos to her stepmother. “What is it? What has happened?” she shouted above the noise.
“Your bridegroom has at last arrived,” Helen said angrily. “And he and all his men are drunk. Now someone who doesn’t value his life will have to get this Red Falcon of yours off his horse, bathed, dressed, and sober enough to say his vows to you.” She paused and gave Liana a look of sympathy. “You vow away your life today, Liana,” she said softly. “May God have mercy on your soul.” Helen turned and started down the stairs to the solar.
“My lady,” Joice said from behind Liana. “You must return to your room. You cannot be seen on your wedding day.”
Liana went back to her room and she even allowed Joice to coax her into bed, but she could not sleep. Once again Rogan was under the same roof as she was and soon…soon he’d be here in bed with her. Just the two of them. Alone and quiet and intimate. What would they talk about, she wondered. They knew so little about each other. Perhaps they’d talk about first learning to ride a horse or maybe he’d tell her about where he lived. This Peregrine castle would be Liana’s new home and she longed to know about it. She had to plan where her mother’s tapestries would be hung, where her gold plates would be set to best display them.
She was so happy in her thoughts that she dozed off for a while until Joice came to wake her and four giggling maids began to dress her in red brocade with a cloth-of-gold underskirt. Her double-horned headdress was red, embroidered with gold wire, and strung with hundreds of tiny pearls. A long transparent silk veil hung down her back.
“Beautiful, my lady,” Joice said, tears in her eyes. “No man will be able to take his eyes from you.”
Liana hoped so. She hoped she was as physically appealing to her husband as he was to her.
She rode sidesaddle on a white horse to the church and she was so nervous she barely saw the crowds of people lining the sides of the road and yelling their wishes that she bear many children. Her eyes were straining ahead to see the man standing by the church door. Her palms were wet as she drew nearer to him. Would he take one look at her, see that she was the woman who hit him with a mud-soaked garment, and refuse to marry her?
When she was close enough to see him, she smiled with pride that he looked as good as she’d imagined in the green velvet tunic that she’d had made for him. The tunic barely reached the tops of his thighs and his powerful, muscular legs were tightly encased in dark knitted hose. On his head he wore a short-brimmed fur hat with a large ruby twinkling on the band.
She swelled so in pride at the look of him that her ribs ached against the steel bones in her corset. Then she held her breath as he stepped down from the church steps and started toward her. Was he going to lift her from her horse himself and not wait for her father, who rode ahead of her, to do it?
Her horse moved maddeningly slowly. Perhaps he could see she was the woman from the pond and he was pleased. Perhaps she had haunted his thoughts for the past three months as he had hers.
But Rogan did not come to her horse. In fact, as far as she saw, he did not so much as glance her way. Instead, he went to her father’s horse and caught the bridle. The entire procession halted as Liana watched Rogan talk earnestly to her father. Liana watched in puzzlement until Helen moved her horse forward to stand beside her stepdaughter.
“What is that red devil up to now?” Helen spat out. “Those two are wrong if they think we will wait while they talk of hawks.”
“Since he is to be my husband, I assume we must wait,” Liana said coolly. She’d had enough of Helen’s complaints about Rogan.
Helen kicked her horse’s ribs and went to stand on the far side of her husband. Liana could not hear what was being said over the noise of the crowd, but she could see Helen’s anger. Gilbert remained impassive and even leaned back in the saddle while Helen talked angrily to Rogan, but Rogan merely looked across at her with unseeing eyes.
Liana hoped he would never look at her like that. After a moment Rogan looked about him, as if seeing the crowd for the first time, and as an afterthought he looked at Liana sitting quietly on her horse. Liana held her breath as his cool eyes scanned her from toe to head. She did not see any recognition in his eyes and she was glad, because she didn’t want to risk his refusing to marry her. When his eyes rose to meet hers, Liana lowered her lashes, hoping to seem modest and obedient.
After a moment, she looked up to see Rogan returning to the church steps and Helen riding toward her.
“That man you plan to marry,” Helen said with a sneer, “was asking for twelve more knights’ fees. He was saying he would walk away now and leave you here if he didn’t get them.”