“No,” Rogan said. “I must face the ridicule of my men.”
Liana had not thought how his men would look at their master, who, because of a spat with his wife, had been locked away in a tower chamber.
They were allowed no time to speculate because Gaby came bustling into the room, talking as fast as her teeth and tongue could move. It seemed that Severn had spread the rumor that Rogan had ordered his wife to be locked into the room with him in order to chastise her. Rogan’s reputation was intact.
“And what of mine?” Liana asked.
“They believe you to be a proper wife,” Gaby said primly.
“A proper wife?” Liana gasped.
“Don’t call her that,” Rogan said, “or we’ll never have any peace. I want no more fiery beds.”
Gaby kept her mouth shut on her opinions about Liana’s behavior as a wife. Gaby had won her husband through years of self-denying love and she expected every other woman to do the same thing.
Reluctantly, Liana left the chamber with her husband. She had learned something while in this room. She had learned that what was important to a woman was not necessarily important to a man. Rogan had not called her ugly, and better yet, he didn’t think she was plain.
Somehow, she felt that they had come to a bridge and had crossed it safely. Liana could see no obstacles in their future path.
Chapter
Seventeen
For six long, glorious weeks, Liana was the happiest person on earth. She and Rogan had feared his men’s ridicule, but what they had not foreseen was that the men were so grateful to once again have good food on their table and the rats out of their rooms that they didn’t really care what had brought about the change.
And Moray Castle did indeed change. The men, rather than ignore her or fight her, now tugged their forelocks in respect as Liana walked past. Severn couldn’t be nice enough to her, and Iolanthe began to join them for dinner.
But best of all was Rogan. His eyes followed Liana wherever she went. He only went into his brooding chamber to fetch something and instead spent each evening in the solar with Liana and her ladies. Severn, instead of fighting his brother, began to join them, as did Zared and Io.
It was the morning after such a lovely evening that Liana realized she was going to have a baby. She had always assumed she’d be ill as she’d seen other women be in their first months, but she wasn’t ill. She hadn’t been tired, hadn’t felt in any way unusual, except that now she could barely get into her clothes. She put her hands on her hard, expanded belly and dreamed of a little red-haired child.
“My lady?” Gaby said from behind her. “Are you well?”
“Fine. Lovely. I have never felt better. What are you doing?”
Gaby had a basket full of herbs over her arm. “Lord Rogan and Baudoin were wrestling and they rolled into stinging nettles. I shall prepare an infusion of these to help relieve the pain.”
Liana winced. Stinging nettles could be very painful. Near her father’s house grew an herb that helped stop the pain much more than what Gaby carried. When Liana first arrived at Moray Castle, she remembered seeing the herb along the road. How far away was that? Ten, twelve miles? With a good horse she could be there and back by sundown. And tonight, as she rubbed the herb on her husband’s fiery skin, she’d tell him about their child.
She dismissed Gaby. It wouldn’t be easy to escape Moray Castle. Rogan had given her strict orders never to leave the grounds without an escort. And since the Howard attack, he’d told her she could not leave the castle even if all the Peregrine knights accompanied her.
Liana looked down at her brocade dress and smiled. Of course if she left the castle as someone else and not as Lady Liana, then she had nothing to fear. She dug into a trunk at the foot of the bed and found the peasants’ clothes she’d worn to the fair. All she had to do was cover her hair, keep her face down, and steal a horse.
An hour later she was galloping eastward, away from Moray Castle, away from the village, and toward the herbs that would give her husband relief. The wind on her face and the muscles of the horse between her legs felt wonderful. She laughed aloud to think of the child she was carrying and of the happiness that was hers.
She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she neither saw nor heard the riders come from the trees. They surrounded her before she saw them.
“Look at this,” one of the five men said. “A peasant girl on an animal like that.”
Liana didn’t need to be told who these men were. They were richly dressed, and there was an arrogance about them that could come only from their being retainees to a powerful man. These men were Howards. Her only hope was that they didn’t find out who she was.
“I have stolen the horse,” she said in a whining voice. “Oh please do not tell my mistress.”
“And what will you give us for not telling?” one handsome young man taunted.
“Anything, sir, oh anything,” Liana said, tears in her voice.
Another man rode up behind them. He was older, with gray hair at his temples, a thick, muscular body, and what looked to be a permanent frown on what might have once been a handsome face. “Throw the girl off and take the horse,” the man commanded. “It’s a Peregrine horse, so I’ll take it.”