The Taming (Peregrine 1) - Page 38

“She’s like the peasants. If I give her what she wants today, what will she demand tomorrow? Will she want to run the whole estate? Shall I let her judge the courts as well? Perhaps I should let her train the men.”

Severn looked at his brother for a long moment. “Why are you afraid of her?”

“Afraid of her!” Rogan yelled. “I could break her in half with my bare hands. I could order her locked away. I could send her and her uppity maids to Bevan and never see her again. I could…” He stopped and sat down heavily in a chair.

Severn looked at his brother in amazement. Here was his big, strong, invincible brother, the man who never flinched before a battle, looking like a frightened child. He did not like to see it. Rogan was always sure of himself, always knew what to do. He never hesitated when a decision was to be made and never wavered once he’d decided what to do. No, Severn amended, Rogan didn’t make decisions, he knew what to do.

Severn stepped toward the door. “I will make some excuse to the men. Of course no Peregrine will be a slave to a woman. The very idea is absurd.”

“No, wait,” Rogan said. He didn’t look up. “I was a fool to have agreed to her wager. I had no idea she would produce the thieves. Go to her and ask her what she wants of me. Perhaps she wants a new gown or two. I don’t want to spare the money, but I will.”

When Severn didn’t answer, Rogan looked up. “Well? You have something else to do? Go to her.”

Severn felt warmth rising at his neck. “She might want something…ah, personal from you. If Io won me as a slave for a day, she’d probably tie me to a bed or—” He broke off at the look of interest in Rogan’s eyes. “Who knows what your wife wants from you? Maybe she wants you to wear a donkey’s tail and scrub the floors. Who knows? This woman listens more than she talks. I guess she knows more about us than we do about her.”

“Like a good spy,” Rogan said heavily.

Severn threw up his hands. “Spy or not, I like the smell of this place better. Go see what the woman wants. She seems simple enough.”

He left the room, closing the door behind him.

Moments later, Rogan left his brooding room and mounted the stairs to the solar. He had been in here in the last few years only to fetch a hawk. But the hawks were gone now and the walls looked almost damp with fresh whitewash. Three big tapestries hung on the walls, and his first thought was that he could sell them for gold. There were chairs, tables, stools, and women’s sewing frames scattered about the room.

The women in the room stopped their chattering when they saw him and stared at him as if he were a demon from hell. Across the room, sitting on a window seat, was his wife. He remembered that calm stare of hers, but most of all he remembered the feel of her body.

“Out,” was all he said, then stood there and waited while the scared women scurried past him.

When the two of them were alone, he didn’t move any closer to her. The thirty or so feet separating him from his wife was fine, in his opinion. “What do you want of me?” he asked, his dark brows drawn together in a scowl. “I will not make a fool of myself before my men. I’ll scrub no floors or wear any donkey’s tail.”

Liana blinked at him in astonishment, then smiled. “I have never received any pleasure from making another look like a fool.” Very slowly, she reached up and removed her headdress, letting her long blonde hair cascade about her shoulders and down her back. She gave her head a little shake. “You must be tired after your journey. Come and sit by me. I have wine and sweetmeats here.”

He stood where he was, glaring at her. “Do you try to entice me?”

Liana gave him a look of exasperation. “Yes, I do. And what is so wrong with that? You’re my husband and I haven’t seen you in weeks. Come, tell me what you did while you were away and I will tell you of what was found in the moat.” She took a silver goblet from a table and poured it full of wine, then carried it to him. “Try it, it’s from Spain.”

Rogan took the wine and drank, his eyes never leaving hers, then he looked into the cup in surprise. The wine was delicious.

Liana laughed. “I brought some recipes with me and I persuaded your cooks to try them.” She put her hand on his arm and gently began pulling him toward the window seat. “Oh, Rogan, I could have used your help. Your people are so stubborn, it was like talking to rocks. Here, try this. It’s a pickled peach, and you might like this bread, there’s no sand in it.”

Before Rogan knew what he was doing, he was half sprawled on the softness of a window-seat cushion, eating one delicious food after another and wasting the day listening to a lot of frivolous nonsense about cleaning. He should, of course, be out training with his men, but he didn’t move. “How many gold coins?” he found himself asking.

“We found six gold coins, twelve silver, and over a hundred copper pennies in the moat. There were also eight bodies, which we buried.” She crossed herself. “Here, you look uncomfortable. Stretch out and put your head on my lap.”

Rogan knew he should leave and he hadn’t asked her yet about the wager, but he was tired and the wine was relaxing him. He stretched his legs on the long seat and put his head in her soft lap. The silk of her skirt felt good against his cheek and she caressed his temples and his hair with soft, smooth fingertips. When she began to hum, he closed his eyes.

Liana looked down at the beautiful man sleeping in her lap and she never wanted this moment to end. He looked so much younger when he was asleep, no scowl marring his handsomeness, the weight of responsibility not as heavy on his broad shoulders.

He slept peacefully for nearly an hour until Severn came clanging into the room wearing fifty pounds of armor.

War-trained Rogan sat up with a jolt. “What has happened?” he demanded, all softness leaving him.

Severn looked from his brother to his sister-in-law. He had never seen Rogan even look at a woman before sundown, much less put his head in her lap. It was startling to see such softness in his hard older brother. He found himself frowning.

Severn had been on his sister-in-law’s side, but then Rogan’s hardheadedness often made Severn take an opposite side when arguing with his older brother. But he did not like this. He didn’t like this woman making Rogan forget where he was supposed to be. Just hours ago Rogan had been dreading seeing his wife again after weeks away from her. Severn had been a bit amused at his brother’s temerity, but perhaps Rogan had cause to fear the power of this woman. Could she make him forget his duties? His honor? She was peace-loving with the peasants, but did her nonviolent ways extend to making Rogan forget the Peregrines’ war with the Howards?

Severn did not want to see his older brother change. He did not want Rogan’s edges softened. It was one thing to play childish games with a woman and quite another to neglect duties to lay about with her in the afternoon.

“I had no idea today was a holy day and meant to be spent in pleasure,” Severn said sarcastically. “I beg your pardon. I will leave the men to train alone, without me, and I will go to judge the peasants’ disputes since you are too…busy.”

Tags: Jude Deveraux Peregrine Historical
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