When Love Awaits(39)

“If you know so much about women,” he demanded of Thorpe, “tell me what the devil has plagued the women around me. I do not mean my wife.”

Thorpe choked on a bit of bread. “What women?” he managed without grinning.

“All of them! The servants, the wives of my men. For weeks every one of them behaved as if I were diseased. Now suddenly I get smiles all the time. Lady Bertha even rode over to Warling to bring me a fruit pie, and Warren’s wife sent flowers—flowers!”

Thorpe could not hide his amusement any longer and laughed with delight. “They are doubtless trying to make amends for thinking it was you who beat your wife on your wedding night. Lady Leonie was the one who corrected the mistake. I hear she was quite angry when she learned you were being blamed for what her father did.”

“She was beaten. Who says so?”

Thorpe’s humor fled. Rolfe had paled, and his body was still as death. “Damn me, Rolfe, do you mean you didn’t know? But you spent the night with her. How could you not know?”

“Who?” Rolfe repeated. His voice was a whisper.

“Lady Roese caught a glimpse of her face the next morning when the ladies came for your sheets,” Thorpe said uneasily.

“How badly was she beaten?”

Thorpe realized he had to tell all he knew. “Apparently it was a harsh beating. I heard it said Lady Leonie’s face was swollen grotesquely and blackened with bruises. That is what shocked Lady Roese so badly. Thinking you were responsible, she did not keep quiet about the beating.”

“You knew all this, and you never spoke to me about it?”

“I thought surely you knew. I would not have mentioned any of this now except for the gossip and…”

Thorpe watched as Rolfe leaped from his chair and bounded out of the hall in six strides. A few moments later, he jumped as a door slammed shut upstairs.





Chapter 39




LEONIE looked up in dismay as her husband towered over her, in a rage about something, glowering in a terrifying manner.

“Why did you never tell me what was done to you?”

“Done?” Was he drunk again? “You will have to be more specific if—”

“You were beaten severely! Was everyone to know of it except me?”

Leonie stiffened, her eyes turning a stormy silver gray. This was not a subject dear to her, but then he already knew that.

“I have told you before that I will not speak of what happened,” she said frostily.

“Damn me, you will! You will tell me what you gained by hiding your beating from me!”

“Hiding it!” she came back furiously. “There was nothing to hide, except from Sir Guibert, and that was to prevent murder being done. You knew! Judith admitted to me that she told you. Why else do you think I stabbed you that night? I awoke in pain, caused by your touch on my bruised face. It was a thoughtless, normal reaction. You must have understood that, since you never mentioned the stabbing to me.”

Rolfe’s anger was tempered somewhat by hers, but only somewhat. “I never mentioned that little prick you made with your knife, Leonie, because that is all it was. And your stepmother did warn me you had to be forced to marry me, but she didn’t tell me how you were forced. I thought you were denied a few meals, the standard practice for reluctant brides.”

“There was no time for that, my lord,” she said bitterly. “My father did not tell me I was to marry until the day before the wedding. As usual, his drunkenness made him thoughtless.”

“Does drunkenness excuse him?”

“I do not excuse him!”

“For your beating, or because you are now married to me?” he asked harshly.

Leonie turned her back, but Rolfe whirled her around, his fingers biting into her arms, his eyes black with rage.

“Why, Leonie? Why was I so abhorrent to you? Why did you have to be beaten before you would consent to marry me?”

He was shouting at her, stirring her already churning emotions. Never mind that she was beaten. Never mind that she had suffered. His vanity was wounded, and that was all that concerned him!

“I was afraid of you, my lord. I had been told you were a monster, and that was all I knew of you. I thought you wanted me only for revenge, because of the trouble you felt I had caused you. A beating was easier than what I believed you would do to me.” Reflectively, she added, “I thought I could withstand a beating, but I was wrong. The cur would have killed me had I not sworn on my mother’s grave that I would wed you.”

This was uttered with all the hatred she felt for Richer Calveley. Rolfe thought it reflected her anger at being forced to marry him.

“So you thought me a monster?”

“I did.”

“And still do?”

“I did not say so, my lord.”

“No, of course not, but I must assume it is so. Why else do you still scorn me? Why else do you refuse to be my wife in truth?”

Something in his tone made her wary. What kind of confession was he looking for? And then it struck her. He wanted to hear her rail at him again about his mistress. How appeased his vanity would be to have her act the jealous wife. She would not give him that satisfaction.

She dropped her eyes. “I do not scorn you, my lord. Whyever would you think so?”

“Do you not?” he said harshly. “You are just cold by nature then?”

“Perhaps,” she agreed glibly.

He turned away from her. “Or perhaps you love another!”

“Another?” she replied incredulously, her temper flaring despite her resolve. “Look who talks of another! I take marriage seriously, my lord, even if you do not!”

“Be damned if you do, or you would have renounced your first love and accepted me. Well I would hear the truth now, madame, and have done with it. No longer will I let these suspicions gnaw at my insides.”

Leonie found it hard to believe what he was saying. How dare he accuse her of infidelity when he…

She drew herself up sharply, eyes a wintry gray. “If you are searching for an excuse to send me away, my lord, you need not go to so much trouble. I will be more than happy to leave.”

His eyes flared before his lips tightened into an ominous line. “No doubt you would like that, wife.”

“Indeed,” she retorted, her anger flaring. He was going to sever their relationship. How easy everything was for men!

He took a step toward her, and she thought for certain he was going to strike her, so black was his expression. He towered over her, body rigid, fists clenched, eyes like hot coals.

“If it has been your hope that you can still have him, you hope in vain,” he rasped furiously. “I may indeed grow tired of your icy demeanor one day and have done with you, but you will never have him. I will kill him first!”

“Who?” she shouted.

“Montigny!”

Leonie was so surprised she might have laughed. It was unfortunate she did not, for Rolfe saw only her surprise and it inflamed him.

“You thought I did not know it was that young ne’er-do-well? I knew it before I wed you!”

Leonie tried to comprehend but couldn’t. She said simply, “You are wrong, my lord.”

“You have always loved him, madame. It is why you set your people against me. It is why you refused to marry me. It is why you hate me still, because I have you, while you yearn for him!”

Leonie did laugh this time, and it was Rolfe’s turn to be bewildered. She couldn’t help herself. He was jealous of poor Alain. How absurd.

She smiled at her husband. “I do not mean to take this matter lightly, for no doubt you have harbored these suspicions for some time. But you see, Alain is only a friend. I did once fancy he might do as a husband, but that was long ago when he was the only young man I knew and I despaired of ever having a husband, confined as I was to Pershwick. But it was only a fancy, and quickly forgotten. Alain grew to be a man sadly lacking in character, and I no longer yearned for a husband by then anyway. Yet I could not forsake him simply because he had a few weak traits, so we remained friends.”

Rolfe was still scowling. “You expect me to believe you would set your people against me for the sake of—of friendship?”

“Would you not go to war for a friend?”

“You are a woman.”

Leonie kept a rein on her temper. “I will not argue that point with you, my lord. The fact is I did not set my people against you. The day Alain told me what had befallen him, and that you were coming here to take his lands from him, I wished a pox on you. There, I have finally confessed what I did,” she said, relieved. “I thought the worst of you, and my people took this to heart.”

Rolfe did not know what to think. He wanted to believe her, but if she did not love Alain, then why would she not love him?

“If all you have said is true, Leonie, then there is no reason for you to still hate me.”

“But I do not hate you, my lord.”

“But you will not accept me, either.”

Leonie lowered her eyes and said softly, “I could accept you, my lord, if it were only you. But you ask more of me than that I accept only you.”

“Is that supposed to make sense to me, woman?” His voice rose in frustration.

Leonie did not look up. Rolfe stared hard at her for several moments more, then turned and stalked out of the room. Seeing Thorpe waiting for him downstairs reminded him of what had set him off, and his frustration over his wife’s cryptic remark turned once again to burning anger. He had to put an end to these secrets and confusions and upsets, and he believed he could end the turmoil by going back to its beginning.