Never had he spent such a time in bed with a woman! She was lusty beyond all belief, at one point pushing him to his back and climbing on top of him, her hair wrapping around the two of them like a soft yet strong prison.
Rogan had never considered the woman’s pleasure before, but this woman, with her moans and groans, her movements here, her movements there, sent his own pleasure into a fevered pitch until he thought he might die. When he finished at long last, it was an earth-shattering experience to him, affecting him from his toes to the top of his head.
He collapsed on the girl and instead of pushing her away, as he usually did to the women he bedded, he clutched her to him as if he were drowning and she were a buoyant log.
Liana snuggled against him. He seemed to pour over her body as if he were sauce over a pudding. She had never felt so good in her life. “That was wonderful,” she whispered. “That was the best thing that has ever happened to me. I knew marriage to you would be like this.”
Rogan released his hold on her and moved to the far side of the bed, but Liana moved with him, her head on his shoulder, her arm across his chest, her thigh across his. She was happier than she’d ever been, happier than she’d thought possible.
She had no idea of the turmoil that was coursing through Rogan. He wanted to get away from her, yet he couldn’t move.
“What did your brother William look like? Did he have red hair like yours?” she asked.
“I don’t have red hair,” Rogan said indignantly.
“In the sunlight your head looks as if it’s on fire,” Liana retorted. “Was William like you?”
“Our father had red hair, but I inherited my mother’s black hair.”
“So both of you had red hair, then.”
“I don’t—” Rogan said, then stopped and he almost smiled. “On fire, eh?” Every other woman he’d had had told him he had black hair without a trace of his father’s red. That was what he’d wanted them to say and therefore they had.
“What about your other brothers? Were they redheads too?”
He thought of his now-dead brothers, remembering the youth of them, the strength of them. How well they could fight! He never thought he’d someday be the oldest Peregrine and have the responsibility of it all. “Rowland, Basil, and James had a dark mother, so they all had black hair.”
“And what of Severn and Zared?”
“Severn’s mother was a blonde like…” He trailed off. She had taken his hand in hers and now lay there looking at his fingers, entwining hers with his. It was such an odd thing to do, he thought. He should push her out of bed and get some sleep rather than talk to her about painful memories. But remembering his brothers as alive was not painful.
“Like me,” Liana said, smiling. “And she was Zared’s mother also? But Zared is such a dark young man.”
Liana did not see Rogan smile in the dim light. “Yes, indeed. Zared is dark because of a dark mother. Severn’s mother died giving birth to him.”
“So your father had four wives and seven sons?”
Rogan hesitated before answering. “Yes.”
“It must have been good to have brothers. I often wished for another child to be born to my mother. Did you often play together, or were you fostered out to other people?” She felt him stiffen beneath her and wondered what she’d said wrong.
“There was no play in our lives, nor did we foster.” His voice was cold. “We trained for war from the time we could stand. The Howards killed William when he was eighteen, James and Basil at twenty and twenty-one, and they killed Rowland two years ago, before he was thirty. Now I must protect Severn and Zared.” He took her shoulders and lifted her to look into her eyes. “I killed James and Basil. I killed them over a woman, and I’ll die before I let it happen again. Get away from me, and stay away from me.”
He shoved her back into the feather mattress, then got out of bed and began tugging on his clothes.
“Rogan, I didn’t mean—” Liana began, but he was already gone. “Damn, damn, damn,” she said, slamming her fist into the pillow, then she turned onto her back and stared at the white-painted ceiling. What had he meant that he killed his brothers? And over a woman? “What woman?” she said aloud. “I’ll have her for breakfast.”
The thought comforted her and the thought of there being tomorrow night also calmed her. But most of all, she thought of winning her wager. If the peasants turned over the thieves to her, Rogan would be her slave for an entire day. What would she do with him? Have him make love to her all day? Perhaps just to have him stay with her for a day would be enough. Stay with her and answer her q
uestions, maybe. She drifted off to sleep.
The next morning Liana rose early, meaning to find her husband, but the sight belowstairs made her temporarily forget Rogan. No one was in the Lord’s Chamber, so she went down the stairs and outside and took the stairs leading to the retainers’ hall. She had not been in this area before, but she was not surprised to find it as filthy as the other part of the castle had been. In the enormous hall, twice as big as the Lord’s Chamber, sat about two hundred men at greasy tables on slimy benches eating sand-filled bread and drinking sour wine. No one paid any attention to her when she entered, but they continued scratching, shouting, swilling, belching, and breaking wind.
Liana’s good mood and sense of accomplishment left her. Quietly, she left the hall and went outside into the sunlight.
Severn was standing near the south wall stroking the breast of a big peregrine falcon.
“Where is my husband?” she asked.