Wolf Bride (15 page)

Her eyes widened. ‘I hadn’t thought of that.’

‘Just another hazard of the wedding night.’

He was still consumed with lust, wishing to push himself inside and vent his frustrations on her body. But they had a long time ahead for such pleasures. Now was a time for care and consideration of her innocence, not violence in pursuance of his marital rights.

Wolf swung out of bed and retrieved his dagger from the floor. Seeing her stare in sudden apprehension, he grinned, then began to strip off his shirt.

What, did his fiery bride think him so dangerous? No wonder she had shrunk from him in bed.

Bare-chested, he cut a small nick across his belly, where it was less likely to be seen and remarked upon than if he had cut his arm. It stung, and the blood welled up at once, beading scarlet on his skin. This he smeared across the sheets where he had lain, then stood back to admire the effect.

‘Now even the most determined gossip would swear a virgin lost her honour here tonight,’ he murmured.

He turned, thinking to see relief in her eyes, now that she had been freed from her obligation to surrender herself tonight. Instead she was staring at his bare chest, a fixed expression on her face, worrying at her lower lip with perfect white teeth, her cheeks slightly flushed.

Eloise looked away at once when she caught his gaze on her, her face shuttered.

But he was no fool. That had been desire on her face. And she had responded with heat to his kisses in the darkness of the cave. His bride was not averse to the crippled lord bedding her. Quite the opposite, in fact.

When Eloise had pushed him away with that cry, he had assumed she would need to be wooed over many nights before she came to want him in return. It had been a disappointment after the heat of her previous kisses, but women were often contrary in nature, and his unsightly limp might have put distaste in her heart.

Now Wolf saw it was no such matter. Something other than lack of desire had held her back tonight.

But what?

CHAPTER EIGHT

The morning was cool, the spring still reluctant to emerge this far north. But at least the sun had come out briefly, Eloise thought, admiring the purple-headed heather and yellow tips of gorse growing sparely on the slopes above Wolf Hall. Her mare shifted beneath her, sighing. No doubt the animal was eager for a brisk ride across the fields. But she, like Eloise herself, would have to wait until the master was ready.

Then at last it came, the signal they had been waiting for. At the sound of Wolf’s long unwavering whistle, Eloise looked up, shielding her eyes.

The small dark speck in the sky blackened and grew larger, hurtling towards them as though for the kill.

On horseback, Wolf raised his tasselled leather glove for the bird to land on. He called, ‘Here, boy!’ then whistled again, waiting patiently.

The hawk spread its wings, stretching out with cruel taloned feet. It eyes were wild; its demeanour, savage. Eloise tried not to imagine how it would feel to be some small creature, mewling piteously as it was seized by those claws. With a soft thud the hawk landed on the gloved fist, swaying and gripping hard for balance, and then folded back its barred wings.

‘Well done,’ Wolf murmured, and tossed up a gobbet of raw meat as a reward. The young hawk snatched it from the air, then held the meat between its talons to tear it apart. ‘This young fellow lacks manners and a little training, that is all. He will make an excellent hunting bird in time.’

He glanced sideways at Eloise as he spoke, a dry smile on his face. She sat more stiffly in the saddle, looking away. What did he mean by that glance, that wry comment? Did he think she lacked training as a wife?

It had been almost a sennight since their wedding day, and yet he had never since attempted to make love to her. She saw him watching her sometimes, but could not gauge his mood, nor his thoughts. It was almost as though he lost interest in her since that first night when she had refused him. She regretted her instinctive cry of fear, the way she had pushed him away, for her rejection had struck coldness into their marriage bed.

Yet what had Lord Wolf expected? He had deliberately chosen a virgin bride, and could hardly now demand the skills of a courtesan from her.

Eloise gathered up her reins, hoping she would be allowed to retire to the quiet of the women’s chamber on their return. It was difficult to face Wolf’s looks and silences, painfully aware that their marriage was still unconsummated. She was not experienced in the ways of love, as her husband clearly was, and the intensity of his passion that first night had unnerved her. Yet she had told him that she was prepared to do her duty.

Irritation flashed through her as she nudged her horse away from the straggly bush it was trying to eat. Why did Wolf delay so long if not to draw out the ritual of taking her damned virginity? She grew more on edge each night, wondering when he would finally claim his conjugal rights. And the longer he delayed, the more her imagination worked, driving the heated thorn of desire deeper into her flesh, her body tingling with barely suppressed excitement whenever he so much as glanced at her.

Wolf summoned his master falconer, handing the bird into his care. ‘Restrict meat,’ he ordered the man, ‘until he learns his trade better.’

The falconer bowed and withdrew, standing respectfully to one side as Susannah and Hugh Beaufort, their companions on this ride, rode forward. Susannah seemed to be enjoying her visit to Wolf Hall, and small wonder, for their father’s head was full of plans for her own marriage to an old friend of his, Sir William Hanney, a respectable knight and landowner of some consequence in the north. It was clear from the way Susannah had so eagerly accepted an invitation to stay that she was finding it hard to dissuade her father against this match, and felt the need to escape the house, if only for a few short weeks.

But Eloise was not too concerned for her sister. Susannah had always been their father’s favourite; she would doubtless win in the end, and marry a man of her own choosing.

‘Back to the hall, my lord?’ Hugh asked, clearly having trouble controlling his excitable mount.

‘Not yet,’ Wolf told him coolly, and took up his reins. ‘I thought it might be good to stretch the horses’ legs today with a longer ride. The old hunting lodge has been closed since the winter snows set in. But spring is here, and it’s time the place was opened again to receive hunting parties. We can ride out there, see what kind of repair the lodge is in.’ He smiled at his friend. ‘You must be skilled by now at estimating the need for repairs, given all the priories and church buildings whose worth you have assessed for the king.’

Hugh grinned. ‘If it has been as richly maintained as some of the northern monasteries I have visited, you should have no trouble with the place.’

‘Alas, my friend,’ Wolf replied, raising his brows, ‘I cannot boast vast coffers of gold coins to maintain my buildings, not like these Roman priests and nuns.’

‘Yet rumour has it the king has lavishly rewarded you for your military campaigns these past ten years.’

‘The king has not been ungenerous, it is true. But I am not yet able to pave my lodge with gold,’ Wolf remarked, laughing at Hugh’s expression. ‘The locals would have it that our northern bishops grew so rich before King Henry split with Rome they paved their palaces with gold.’

‘I’ve heard that legend too, but seen no evidence of it. Though plenty of the Catholic priests have lived well enough on what they earned from their rents.’

‘Aye, they have not lived as frugally as men of God should,’ Wolf agreed, his tone sharp. It struck Eloise that her new husband had little love for the Roman church and its priests. ‘Nor been as generous to our northern poor as their oaths of poverty would warrant.’

As Eloise sat listening to this exchange, her sister came sidling past on her chestnut horse.

She gave Eloise a wicked smile, leaning close, and whispered in her ear, ‘Do me a favour, dear sister. If you get a chance to ride alone with your lord, pray take it and let me spend a few moments alone with Master Beaufort.’

Eloise was not surprised; her younger sister had not bothered to hide her growing interest in the king’s clerk. But she was a little concerned that Susannah thought she would encourage Master Beaufort to pursue her sister.

Since they had danced together at her wedding feast, she had seen Hugh glance at Susannah once or twice in a way she recognised as dangerous. He was a red-blooded male and he found her sister desirable, that much was obvious. And his intentions might be honourable.

But what if Hugh Beaufort took advantage of Susannah’s innocence and ruined her, then returned to court without wedding her? Her father would never forgive Eloise if she allowed her younger sister too free a rein during her visit. She could imagine his rage if Susannah thwarted his plans for a marriage with Sir William by spoiling herself with this young courtier.

Impatiently, Wolf wheeled his stallion about. ‘Shall we ride for the hunting lodge, then? It lies about three miles south-east, along the course of the river.’

‘I say yes,’ Hugh agreed heartily, and turned to Susannah, his look uncertain. ‘Would you permit me to ride beside you, Mistress Tyrell? The ground is firm enough here, but it may be soft beside the river. I would not wish you to take a tumble.’

Susannah gave him a little smile that was altogether too encouraging to Eloise’s mind. ‘Indeed, sir, I am sure you would not. Thank you, I would be glad of your company.’

As the two younger ones rode down the slope together, their horses shoulder to shoulder, Susannah was already chattering away while Hugh listened politely.

Eloise watched them, frowning. Perhaps she was wrong to suspect Hugh of wishing to seduce her sister; he might simply be allowing Wolf time alone with his new bride.

The irony of that gesture nearly made her laugh. She and Wolf had lain together every night since the wedding, but in unnatural stillness and silence, except for those few occasions when he had risen to put a fresh log on the dying fire or stare out of the window at the moon. Sometimes when they were sleeping together, his body would brush against her in the dark, warm and vital, and she found it hard to breathe. Yet despite her trepidation, he had never once touched her more intimately.

Wolf had ridden a short way towards the river, but now turned back, urging his powerful horse back up the hill towards her. He seemed so restless today, she thought, his body charged with energy as though he were eager to be off and doing things. As he came level with her, she caught a glimpse of that impatient look again, swiftly hidden behind his lashes.

‘Shall we canter?’ he asked, barely waiting for a response before heading off again at speed.

She kicked her mare on, but the animal was already following his stallion with little need for persuasion. Soon she was cantering alongside him, unable to stop herself looking at his strong thighs controlling the horse, his gloved hands keeping tight guard on the reins, the sun-browned expanse of his throat and face.

Yes, Wolf was a rough soldier, not much given to etiquette or courtly ways, just as she had thought when they first met at court. Yet he was not unhandsome for it. Indeed, the more time she spent with her new husband, the more intriguing she found him, the more compulsively she stared at his hard body, and the more she wondered how it would feel to lie beneath him in pleasure.

That did not mean she loved Wolf though. How could she love a nobleman who had chosen her like a mare for the breeding?

She had loved Simon once, before he betrayed her trust, and had thought him both handsome and a gentleman. Yet she could not imagine ever feeling like this for Simon, consumed by a restless desire that prickled at her skin whenever they were together and made each night a torment.

Susannah and Hugh rode just ahead of them, seeming to take pleasure in each other’s company. The spring sunshine grew stronger as the clouds rolled away overhead, and by the time they reached the hunting lodge, the day was quite warm.

Susannah, whose fair complexion freckled easily, was clearly worried to be riding out in such fine weather. When Eloise and Wolf arrived at the lodge, an ancient building with a thatched roof and many tall chimneys, she asked at once if they could return to the hall before the sun climbed much higher.

‘For I do not wish my skin to burn in this hot sun,’ Susannah fretted, and stared imploringly at Wolf. ‘Forgive me, my lord. I know you wished to look around the lodge before we returned.’

Wolf seemed less than impressed. But he sighed, and glanced at Eloise. ‘I will have to show you the lodge another time then. We had better ride back if your sister does not wish to stay.’

Clearing his throat, Hugh intervened. ‘My lord, if you permit it, I would be happy to ride back to the hall with Mistress Susannah. You may then show the lodge to your lady, and return in your own time.’

‘But I wish you to see it too, Beaufort, before you journey back to London. Your advice on any repairs would be welcome.’

‘In that case, we could ride out here again tomorrow,’ Hugh suggested carefully. ‘Early, before the ladies have risen.’

Wolf considered him in silence a moment, then turned his head to Eloise. ‘My lady?’

‘I am not sure . . .’ Eloise began slowly, not wishing to allow anything improper, but her sister interrupted.