Page 34 of The Raven and the Rose
“I am Lady Ravenspur,” shrugged Roseanna. “That’s enough power for me.”
“Simply being married isn’t enough. He could take a mistress anytime, and she would have the real power,” cautioned Joanna. “You have the man now—but can you hold him?” She hesitated, then admitted, “I couldn’t.”
Roseanna thought of Edward and the power the Queen had over him.
“The trick is to become a real woman. I can’t tell you how to do that; some things can only be learned from a man. Other lessons can only be learned from life. But I urge you to take the cup of life in both hands and drink of it deeply. Ravenspur is a magnificent man! Deny him nothing, and I wager you’ll never regret it. Roseanna, I envy you. Go quickly—you have your whole life before you, and you are the only one who can live it. Know that I love you. If you truly cannot bear it, your home will always be open to you.”
Roseanna, who had entered the room intending to be cool and unforgiving, threw her arms around her mother and kissed her farewell.
Roseanna hadn’t realized the unwieldy size of the party that was to travel up to Ravensworth. They were ready early because she had pushed Alice and overruled Kate—a wondrous achievement—but Roseanna realized that if she didn’t have the upper hand or at least an equal voice with Kate, she would be overruled for the rest of her life. She had escaped her mother’s authority and looked forward to giving orders from now on instead of taking them.
Kate would ride in the baggage coach, while Alice would ride beside Roseanna on her gentle palfrey. The wagons containing her household furnishings were ready to roll, and her string of Thoroughbreds were being seen to by Dobbin.
Yet that was only the smallest part of the cavalcade. Ravenspur had thirty knights, half of whom had brought their wives to York for the wedding. He also had eighty men-at-arms, without whom he seldom traveled. Then there was Tristan Montford, who had his own men, to say nothing of Rebecca and her servingwomen and baggage. Tristan and his men would travel to Ravensworth first, then go to Ravenscar toward the east coast.
At first light Sir Bryan Fitzhugh approached Roger. “Baron Ravenspur, I seek service with you, sir.”
Roger raised a brow and examined him closely. The boy seemed open and honest enough, yet Roger could hardly believe he would have the gall to follow Roseanna. “You are the young knight from Castlemaine?” asked Roger, knowing full well his identity.
Sir Bryan looked shamefaced. “I was dismissed from Castlemaine, my lord, because I gave safe escort to Lady Roseanna when she—when she ran away,” he finished lamely.
Ravenspur was about to shake his head when Sir Bryan pressed further. “It was I who gave the message to your men at Selby Abbey.”
Ravenspur’s eyes narrowed. What was his game? Perhaps it would be best if the young devil were where he could keep an eye on him.
“I can always use an extra sword. In the meantime you can keep an eye on the wagons and the people from Castlemaine. Don’t let them hold us up on the journey to Ravensworth.” Before the words were out of his mouth, Fitzhugh was off his horse and swearing fealty. Roger smiled to himself. God’s feet, how fervent young knights were! Perhaps he’d misjudged the boy. Most likely Roseanna had been using him to get to the man she really loved—perhaps one of the King’s gentlemen.
He made an effort to throw off the black mood that threatened. He’d never closed his eyes last night, but his blood had been too hot and demanding, enclosed in the same chamber as the object of his desire; he’d been unable to cool his thoughts. From the moment he’d discovered Roseanna was his betrothed, he’d been filled with pleasurable anticipation that flooded through him every time he thought of her. Then she had denied him childishly, and if he knew aught of her tricks, she would do so again tonight. Though he longed for it to happen, he knew she would not yield to him willingly. Well, two could play her game, he thought with amusement. He would have to seduce her, tease her, wear down her resistance until she begged him to make love to her. Roger was determined to win her body and soul, and as he rode along, planned his assault.
When Roseanna was urging Zeus back toward Kate’s coach and the horses from Castlemaine, she caught sight of Bryan. Her heart leaped with joy. He had somehow managed to join her household! Their eyes caught and held, but they were both cautious enough to make no greeting. Surreptitiously he placed his hand across his heart, and before she turned Zeus, she did the same.
Tristan rode abreast of her and threw her an admiring glance. “Ravenspur doesn’t know how lucky he is to have you. I’d give anything if my wife showed some of your spirit.”
“What do you mean?” She smiled.
“You intend to ride part of the way,” he explained.
“I intend to ride all the way,” she asserted.
His eyes kindled, and he didn’t try to hide the admiration he felt for her.
“Tris, don’t hold Rebecca in contempt because she rides in the coach with her ladies. I don’t think she’s very strong.”
“Her frailty is deliberate,” he began; then he dismissed his wife with a shrug. “Here’s Roger.”
He rode up with another dark giant at his heels and bowed to Roseanna. “This is Kelly, captain of my men-at-arms. I’ve asked him to keep an eye on your safety, Roseanna. You may depend on him at all times.”
She nodded formally to the man and looked away quickly. She didn’t like the way he looked at her. His build was enough like Roger’s and Tristan’s that he could have been a brother to them; yet something in his dark face repelled her. That he was a hard-bitten soldier, with none of the courteous ways of a gentleman, was plain. Perhaps that was what caused her uneasiness with him.
As she surveyed her new husband, she had to admit that he was a splendid man. He sat on his black Thoroughbred with a regal air of command. His soft leather boots reached above his knees, where his heavily muscled thighs gripped the saddle and the flanks of the stallion. His dark purple mantle was closed by a magnificent clasp of diamonds set in the shape of his initial. She knew not whether it stood for Ravenspur or Roger.
Probably because of her royal blood, Roseanna had a great sense of show and ceremony. She realized instantly that this was her opportunity to display herself to advantage before her husband’s people—her people now. Because two previous wives had held her position, she was determined to becometheBaroness of Ravenspur: the most beauteous, the most gracious, the most beloved. She would not stoop to bicker with her lord before his men. She gave him a brilliant smile; she would keep her barbs for when they were alone.
For a moment Roger was dazzled. His eyes warmed to her beauty, and he said, “Will you do me the honor of riding beside me, Lady Roseanna?”
The breeze carried her voice to all those around them as she deepened her smile and replied, “The honor is mine, my lord husband.” Her lavender riding mantle and his a few shades darker complemented each other. Her long black hair was held in a lavender-colored silk net set with amethysts, and amethysts were set among the embroidery of her riding gauntlets.
Roger thought her radiant, as if a light shone from her like a jewel. She was his jewel, and he knew a moment of pride such as he had never known before. His dark eyes roamed possessively over her, and Roseanna became aware of a peculiar sensation that she had never before experienced. It began in the pit of her belly and radiated upward to set her breasts tingling. More disturbing, it also traveled downward to between her legs. It was a wicked feeling; she was confused and alarmed. Bryan affected her heart, but this man who rode beside her with desire hot in his eyes affected her body. Her pulse began to race at a frantic pace; her breasts rose and fell with her rapid breathing. She stole a glance at him, and he winked suggestively as if he knew of the sensations felt inside her. She looked away quickly and fell back to ride beside Alice.
