Page 61 of The Raven and the Rose
She had expected to pay two hundred fifty pounds apiece for them, but when she was given a price of one hundred fifty, she quickly picked out a third mare and counted out four hundred fifty pounds from her saddlebag. To her delight she had fifty pounds left over.
Sir Bryan was in the abbey stables saddling his horse when she found him. She greeted him gaily, “I’ve acquired three of the loveliest creatures you have ever laid eyes on. Come and see!”
Roger and his men had left Middleham at dawn. He and Tristan had discussed nothing inside the walls of Middleham, but when they departed, Roger said, “There has clearly been a great gathering of men back there recently. It stinks to high heaven of treason. I want you to ride to Edward at York and warn him. If he’s gone back to Westminster, he’ll escape their plotting and will be safe. But if he’s still in the North, you must warn him to leave immediately. He has too many enemies up here. There’s Northumberland, Stanley, and Percy—all thick as thieves with Warwick—and then there are neutrals like Somerset and even our own overlord, the Earl of Lincoln. If it comes to the crunch, the devil only knows on which side they’ll jump. We’ll ride east to the Great North Road; then you can turn south. Take half a dozen men with you in case you are ambushed.” Roger rode back to Ravensworth praying to God that Roseanna was safe at home.
Two hours later Roseanna rode into the courtyard at Ravensworth. Zeus was in the lead, the mares were strung out behind him, and Sir Bryan was in the rear. To her surprise she was met by Ravenspur in a towering temper.
“Where in hell have you been?” he demanded.
Stung to be so addressed in front of his men, she immediately took the offensive. “How dare you question my whereabouts?”
“I dare, madame, because I am your husband, a thing you seem to have conveniently forgotten!” he said pointedly as his dark eyes raked over Sir Bryan.
She said quickly, “My brother Jeffrey took me to buy mares from the Abbey of Jervaulx.”
“Your brother, madame, is conspicuous by his absence —and a good thing, too. I’d give him a damned good thrashing if he were here! I forbid you here and now to go off with your brother ever again!”
“Forbid?” she asked icily. “I think not, my lord.” She prodded Zeus with her heel; he sprang forward, past Ravenspur, and into the stables.
Roger glared at Sir Bryan and gave the order between clenched teeth: “Seize him! Lock him up!”
Inside the stables the new white mares created a sensation. Old Dobbin untied their ropes and chuckled, “The Arabian will think it’s his birthday.” Tom and Kenneth ran their hands along the mares’ flanks in appreciation. “You picked real beauties, my lady.”
“Well, I’m glad someone appreciates the presents I’ve bought for my husband.” She unsaddled Zeus herself and gave him a brisk rubdown and a generous feeding of oats.
Only then did she go to the castle to face the music. As she mounted the staircase that led to her chambers, Roger’s tall figure loomed above her. “I wish to speak with you,” he said firmly.
“I need a bath, my lord,” she said coolly.
“Damn it, the bath can wait! I want you in here now, Roseanna.”
He flung her into his chamber but she turned to face him with her hands on her hips. His dark eyes roamed assessingly over her. She was wildly beautiful in her windblown disarray. “Go on, vent your spleen on me— let’s get it over with!” she demanded.
He leaned back against the doorjamb, his arms folded across his chest. “Roseanna, I never want to return home again and find you missing!”
“How was I to know you would return so quickly?” she flared.
He spoke patiently. “Is it not reasonable to let your women or Mr. Burke know where you are going?”
She ignored the question. “When we wed, you told me I would be free to come and go as I pleased!”
“And you are, but I ask again: Is it not reasonable to let someone know where you are going?”
“I suppose so,” she conceded. Then she added quickly, “But I don’t appreciate being shouted at in front of your men. After all, the mares were meant as a surprise present for you. You could at least be grateful!”
He grinned and closed the distance between them in two strides. His fingers threaded through her hair, and he brought her face up for his kiss. “Let me show you how grateful,” he murmured against her mouth.
She felt the kiss all the way down to her knees. He slipped her breast from her shirt, and she cried out as he dipped his head to put his hot mouth onto her sensitive nipple. She pulled away from him. “My bath, Ravenspur.”
“Do you mean to deny me?” he asked softly.
“Without a moment’s hesitation.” Her words were cut off as his mouth descended onto hers to take the kisses he lusted for. “Have I not taught you that I will take whatever 1 want from you, whenever I want it? I think another lesson is in order.”
“Ravenspur, my bath!”
“To hell with your bath!” he swore. He had an overwhelming need to assert his authority over her, to brand her flesh as his. He almost tore the silken shirt off her; pushing her back onto the bed, he pulled off her riding skirt. The soft suede riding boots came up almost to her thighs, and she presented such an erotic picture, lying nude save the boots, that he went on his knees to her, burying his head between her legs. He tongued her, seeking her honey, which sent pulsating waves of heat up inside of her.
“Please … no!” she cried, thinking she couldn’t bear the intensity a moment longer. But his tongue was like wildfire stroking her secret place, arousing pleasures that were before unknown. At last she cried out her pleasure; he did not withdraw his tongue until she lay quiet and panting to catch her breath. He stood up and grinned down at her. “I have other presents, brought all the way from Tangiers on one of my ships,” he added persuasively. “Come back after your bath and see if the things please you.”
