Claiming(18)

She shrugged. “Nothing. Just an old place.”

He looked from the tower, to her, back to the tower again. “A ‘nothing’ place that makes you shudder and casts fear into your eyes? Tell me about it.”

“’Twas a place used for imprisonment.”

“Take me there.”

“’Tis late, we should return to the castle.”

“Not yet. I would have you show me this place.”

She bit her lip to try to stem the trembling that just the thought of seeing the tower induced. But she wouldn’t give way to fear. “As you wish.”





CHAPTER EIGHT





Rowena kept her horse to a walking pace, partly because the forest became more overgrown as they approached the top of the hill, and partly because she had no wish to arrive. Eventually they emerged into a small clearing from which the ruin soared high into the blue sky above them. They dismounted and tethered the horses. “This is it. You see, it’s nothing much.”

“Then why does that look come into your eyes?” He narrowed his own, consideringly. “Like a veil of fear.” She shrugged but turned away, not wanting to give herself away further. “Come, I wish you to show it me.” They walked over and looked inside. “An unwelcoming place. ’Tis on Gresham land?”

She nodded. “It was the first castle, so I believe, abandoned. A place where things were left… forgotten about.” She tried to turn away but he brought her head round to face him.

“Tell me.”

And just with that touch of his hand under her chin, she felt the fear melt a little. She looked up into eyes that were interested and kind. “It was my mother… She… was not my father’s equal in temperament. There was madness on her side of the family, and her behaviour had become increasingly strange. She sought refuge in the arms of other men and ceased to hide it. I heard rumours growing up, none of which I fully understood until the night when Melisende was born. You see Melisende looks nothing like either me or Angelique. I witnessed the accusations and arguments and watched my mother leave. We never saw her again. She was banished…”

He followed her gaze to the ivy that crept up the flint exterior, its suckers invading the decaying mortar. “To here.”

“Yes. To here. My father imprisoned her. We did not see her again. Not many years passed before she died. My maid says they were not unhappy years for her, and so I like to believe that. My mother was unbalanced, driven by her passion and in the tower she was controlled and lived in relative peace for the few years she had left to her.”

“Your father was a hard, unforgiving man.”

She nodded. “Yes. But she wasn’t well and he had to do something. I suppose he was concerned about her influence on us.” She shrugged. “I don’t know. All I know is that, for me, the spectre of madness and passion is all rolled into one and embodied in my mother… in the tower. I used to think…”

“What?” He slipped his hand around her shoulder and caressed her, encouraging her to speak.

“That her fate was the fate of a wife and mother. She lost the respect of my father, her health suffered, and she was hidden, forgotten…” She shivered.

“You have nothing to fear on any of those accounts with me, my lady. My mother taught me well to respect strong women. And I do. I am ruthless with men, but respectful of women. ’Tis my weakness.”

She looked up to his dark grey eyes that were softer toward her now than before. “’Tis no weakness to respect women, sir.”

“No.” He brushed a cobweb from her cloak. “I do not think so either.” His eyes bore into hers, making her heart beat more quickly and her stomach flutter with desire. “Especially strong women who deserve all the respect they can get.” Their gaze once more collided, setting her senses into confusion.

For a long moment she’d forgotten why she was there, forgotten everything except the fire that dwelt in his eyes, heating and caressing her until the flutters grew in her belly… and lower.

He smiled as if aware of her changed response to him. “Come, let’s leave this dismal place and return to the castle. I would like to see those beautiful lips curve into a smile more often.” He lifted his finger, and gently dragged it against her lower lip. She swallowed down a strange mix of fear and something she’d never felt before, a strumming of excitement that refused to be subdued. “You’ve beautiful lips, my lady.”

She shook her head and his fingers moved against them, this time pushing over her top lip. He traced the edge of her lips, she was embarrassed by their fullness.