Page 16 of The Raven and the Rose
“There is a very fine line between love and hate. As long as he is not indifferent to you, all can yet be saved. Put that on.”
“I will not!” hissed Roseanna.
“Kendall, take her legs,” directed Joanna. Although Roseanna kicked and scratched and swore and cried, in the end she was locked into the maidenbelt.
“Cry all you want. Roseanna, as your mother, I must take this action to protect you from your own foolishness. Damn it, do you think you invented infatuation? It has followed the same pattern for centuries. When a young boy and girl become infatuated, they hold hands and sigh. Then they kiss, and next comes a French kiss. If you return that kiss, you are saying, ‘I like it—carry on.’ You give him permission to develop twelve pairs of hands, which he will instantly use to undress you and take possession of your body.”
Roseanna was white-lipped with shock. “You are the slut, Mother, not I! Leave my chamber! I will never forgive you,” she whispered.
“I think you’d best dine up here tonight. You are not fit company for the hall,” declared Joanna.
“I will not leave this chamber until thisthingis removed from my body. I will not eat one mouthful of food until thisthingis removed from my body. I will not speak ever again until thisthingis removed from my body!”
Her mother ignored her and pushed the two servants ahead of her out of the room. The moment the door was closed, Roseanna turned the key in the lock with an ominous click, and heavy silence enfolded her.
Roseanna lay on her bed and stared at the ceiling, but her mind was busy with a hundred little details. Her mother had designed this ridiculous maidenbelt in her workshop. It was made of two heavy silver chains that went around the waist and a flat piece of silver mesh, very like chain mail, that went between her legs. It had a small lock at the waist. She suddenly remembered a small lock and key that her mother had given her to secure her jewel casket. When she tried the key on the maidenbelt and it unlocked the contraption, she sighed with great relief.
Next she gathered together a store of food. She had a bowl of apples; in one of her coffers she found a bag of walnuts and hazelnuts; and on her bedside table she had a large box of sweetmeats made from marzipan. She also had a jug of water, and a flask of wine; she could go for two or three days at least. She would make them all sorry!
Her eyes fell on the cloak Ravenspur had given her. She snatched it up with the intention of rending it to shreds, but with the first tear came a subtle scent. She rubbed the cloth between her fingers reflectively and lifted it to her nose, wondering what its fragrance was. She picked up a little volume that always gave her pleasure on the language of flowers. Balsam was for impatience. As she read it, she could smell the balsam. She smiled as she read that broom was for neatness; how apt. The white lily stood for purity. Her mind wandered briefly to the maidenbelt. Dead leaves represented sadness, which was sensible when you thought about it. Jasmine … jasmine! That’s what his cloak smelled of. Quickly she ran her finger across the page to see what it meant. Sensuality! She shut the book with a little snap. She visualized his dark eyes and the thick black lashes and brows that intensified his gaze. She closed her eyes to dispel the image, but it only became sharper. His jaw was so aggressive, his mouth so frankly sensual, that she blushed at the memory. His naked body rose up before her, so real that she could almost reach out and touch him. Lord, why ever was she having such wicked thoughts? She could see him and smell him—aye, she could even taste his kiss upon her mouth. His rich, dark laughter came back to her, making her spine tingle; the very danger of the man filled the room, so tangible was her memory of him. Again she tasted his blood on her lips when she had bitten him, and she shivered with excitement.Damn Ravenspur to hell,she thought savagely. He was the root of all her misery!
When Kate Kendall knocked on the door, she ignored it. The woman called through it, “I’ve brought your supper.” Roseanna didn’t respond. “Don’t be a silly lass. Ye must eat.” Again receiving no response, the sensible north-country woman decided to leave the tray outside the door. No doubt as soon as she left, Roseanna would eat.
Her face was grim two hours later when she returned to find the tray untouched. She bent close to the door and called, “Roseanna!” There was no response. She put her ear to the door and listened for a few minutes, but there was only silence. She did not report this to Lady Joanna. No doubt by the time breakfast arrived Roseanna would be ravenous.
Very early the next morning, Roseanna’s attention was caught by a piercing whistle from outside. She went to the window and saw her brother Jeffrey below, accompanied by Sir Bryan. Quickly she picked up a piece of paper and wrote,
Please don’t worry about me. Ravenspur will give us no trouble. We hated each other on sight! I’ve locked myself in because of a disagreement with my mother. I beg you not to worry about me. Roseanna.
She folded the note tightly, wrote “Sir Bryan” on the outside, and threw it from the high turret down to the young men below. Jeffrey stooped to retrieve it and handed it to Sir Bryan. Then he winked at her and waved his hand in approval.
When Kate Kendall found Roseanna’s breakfast tray undisturbed outside her chamber door where she had left it, she knew she must inform Lady Joanna. But Joanna was still annoyed at her daughter’s behavior the day before; this only fanned the flames of her grievance. She came to the turret and rattled the doorknob, ordering, “Open this door at once!” There was no reply. “Roseanna, I have had enough theatrics! Open the door.” Still Roseanna didn’t respond. “Very well, madame, two can play this game! Kate, you are not to bring any more food up here today. By tomorrow there will undoubtedly be an improvement in her appetite.”
Joanna did not discuss her daughter’s behavior with her husband. He had a knack for making her feel as if she were in the wrong, and in this instance she knew she was not. She had plenty to keep her busy. Ravenspur would return the day after tomorrow, and everything must be perfect for his visit. She had the maids clean and plenish the best bedchamber, overlooking no detail. Even the candles were scented with pine, and the bed linen was embroidered with the initial R.
The next day when Joanna ascended to the turret, she was ready to make some concessions if Roseanna was. “Roseanna, open the door, and we will discuss our differences like civilized human beings.” Roseanna kept silent. “Kate Kendall is here with the key to the chastity belt,” she tempted. Silence. Her anger rose again. If there was one thing this mother and daughter shared, it was stubborn pride. “If you are willing to harm yourself by starving just to punish me, then so be it!” she said with suppressed fury. As Joanna walked away, Roseanna pressed her ear to the door and heard her mother say to Kendall, “What am I to do? Ravenspur comes tomorrow!”
Roseanna smiled. She had been on the verge of opening the door, for she was truly longing for a substantial meal. But now she realized that if she held out until tomorrow, the showdown would be postponed until Ravenspur arrived.
* * *
Roger dressed with great care for his visit to Castlemaine. He rejected the clothes he wore at Court; they were too flamboyant for his taste. The tight silk hose had to be lined with heavy satin, which molded and exaggerated his manhood to the point of indecency. The doublets that were being worn were shorter and shorter to display to advantage everything a man possessed. He passed over these peacock-colored garments and chose sober black hose and boots and a wide-shouldered wine velvet doublet. His fine lawn shirt boasted lace at the neck and cuffs, but then, he would have been hard pressed to find a plain shirt in his entire wardrobe. He wore a large ruby on one hand and a heavy gold seal ring with a cruel-looking spurred raven on the other.
Ever since he’d returned her to Castlemaine, Roseanna had been with him constantly, almost as if she were haunting him, he thought grimly. The images his mind conjured of her were so vivid, he could almost reach out and touch her cream velvet skin, and when he was abed, he could swear he actually felt her long tresses trailing across his nakedness to inflame his desires. He should have made love to her while he had her in his bed and gotten her out of his system! Then he blanched at the thought of being charged with rape. Again.
He had forced himself to relive the nightmare of his first two marriages so that he would run like a scalded cock from even the hint of a third wife.
Now, fortified with the company of ten knights, he rode forth to Castlemaine, secure in the knowledge that by this time tomorrow he would be free of her.
Sir Neville met his visitors at the stables, where Ravenspur and his men were attending their own horses. A knight worthy of the name usually did this rather than leave it to others, since so many times his life depended upon his mount. Neville, noting that Ravenspur’s black stallion was almost identical to Zeus, showed off the animal to his guest. Roger was so impressed with the sleek, wild creature that he offered to buy it.
Neville shook his head and laughed. “Nay, my lord, he is my daughter’s favorite. However, I’m sure we have other animals here that meet your high standards. My daughter is an expert when it comes to horse breeding.”
Although keenly interested in learning of Roseanna’s expertise with horses, Ravenspur was nevertheless alarmed. “You don’t allow her to ride this wild animal?”
“My lord, I cannot stop her,” said Neville mildly.
Ravenspur’s dark eyes searched the other man’s face. Then he said quietly, “I see.”
