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“My servants?” he added with stark emphasis.

“You mean your slut,” she muttered under her breath, bur she shook her head, her eyes lowered.

Kassia felt Guy’s sympathetic gaze upon her as Graelam led her from the hall, his hand cupping her elbow. She looked at him, giving him a tentative smile.

Graelam jerked at her arm. She walked hurriedly beside him down the deep-set stairs and into the inner bailey. The moon was nearly full and cast a silvery light over the keep.

She drew a deep breath. “Where do you wish to go, my lord?”

“To the ramparts.”

Would he throw her over? She pictured her body flailing through the empty air, hurtling toward the ground, and shivered.

When they reached the east tower, Graelam halted, clasped both her arms, and turned her face to him.

Slowly he eased his hands down her arms, his dark, brooding eyes never leaving her face. She felt his fingers circle her throat and tighten slightly.

“You will not escape me in another man’s arms,” he said softly, his fingertips lightly stroking her slender neck.

“I . . . I do not know what you mean, my lord,” she whispered.

“Do you not, my lady?” He stared down at her pale face, and his lips twisted. “A woman is born with lies already forming in her mouth. Most women, I fancy, have the wit to hide their coy looks in their husbands’ presence. But you, Kassia, you were blessed with a father who could not believe ill of you. Listen well, lady wife. I will not tolerate being made the fool, the cuckold.”

Kassia could only stare at him. He believed she wished one of his men as her lover? The only one of his men she spent any time with at all was his steward. It was so ridiculous as to be laughable. She said sharply, forgetting her fear of him, “Am I no longer to smile, my lord? Am I no longer to speak to Blount? By all the saints, he is old enough to be my father!”

“ ’Twas not Blount who won your winsome smile, my lady. You will cease your woman’s deception. You will never lie with another man, and if it is your woman’s wish to have your belly plowed, ’tis I who will do it.”

“No!” she gasped. “You promised me!”

“Think you I will allow Guy to enjoy your favors when my back is turned?”

“Guy,” she repeated blankly.

“Aye, even his name sounds soft on your lips.”

“You are ridiculous,” she hissed at him, drawing out each word.

Graelam gave a growl of anger and jerked her against him. She struck her fists against his chest, but he only tightened his hold and her arms fell uselessly to her sides. He lowered his head, and she twisted back, feeling his kiss land on her throat. His hand wound in her hair, holding her still, and she sobbed softly when his mouth crushed against hers. His tongue was stabbing against her lips to gain entrance. She pictured herself when last he had taken her: docile as a stick, passive, enduring the pain without fight. Let him beat me, she thought. She parted her lips slightly, and when he thrust his tongue into her mouth, she bit down on it, hard.

He drew back from her in fury. “You little bitch,” he panted, touching his mouth. Grabbing her shoulders, he shook her until her head lolled back on her neck. Suddenly he dropped his hands and took a step back from her.

Frantic words burst from her mouth. “And will you force me again? Rape me? I want no man to touch me, do you hear? No man! You are all brutes, selfish animals! You spoke once to me of pleasure. Ha! There is none for the woman. She must lie still and endure your cruel rutting! You have done naught but lie to me, Graelam! I hate you!”

He raised his hand, wanting to cover her mouth, to shut out her torrent of words, to bring her against him again. She jerked away, shrieking at him. “Kill me then! I care not!”

His eyes narrowed on her face, dark as the night. Without a word, he turned away from her and strode down the wooden walkway to the inner bailey. He paused but a moment, her soft sobs reaching him, and cursed under his breath.

She is but a woman, my possession, damn her! Her worth is only what I choose to grant her. Still, he could not shut out her broken sobs, after he was too far away to hear them.

Kassia rose slowly, aware suddenly that she was shivering from cold. She pulled her cloak more closely about her shoulders and walked back toward the keep. Graelam’s men-at-arms were in the inner bailey, and she forced herself to square her shoulders and walk up the deep stairs into the great hall, ignoring their glances. Servants were clearing off the trestle tables. She saw Blanche from the corner of her eye, but did not stop. She reached the bedchamber, but her hand froze on the huge brass handle. No, she thought frantically. He is within. I cannot bear to face him now. She turned away and walked slowly toward the spinning room. Moonlight streamed through the unshuttered windows as she stepped quietly into the darkened room. She heard strange grunting sounds coming from the corner where bolts of material were stacked.

She saw them clearly. Graelam was astride Nan, his powerful naked body thrusting between her white legs. Nan was groaning, her hands stroking frantically over his back, her legs wrapped around his flanks.

Kassia felt bile rise in her throat. She was not aware that a soft keening sound came from her mouth. She jerked around and ran from the room.

Graelam’s lust drove him blindly. He was intent upon exorcising Kassia’s pale, distraught face from his mind. He heard the odd wailing sound, and turned quickly to see Kassia flee from the room. His lust disappeared as if it had never existed. He jerked out of Nan’s body, and rolled over, staring toward the door.

“My lord,” Nan whispered urgently. “Please . . .”


Tags: Catherine Coulter Medieval Song Historical