He said nothing. When they rode into the inner bailey, Guy rushed toward them, his face drawn with worry. Graelam saw him gaze toward his wife, and felt a renewed surge of anger at the tenderness in Guy’s eyes.
“My wife wished for a midnight ride,” he said curtly. “See to our horses,” he continued to the stable boy. He pulled Kassia off Bluebell’s back and led her into the keep.
Blanche watched Graelam draw Kassia toward the stairs. She stayed in the shadows of the hall, a small smile lifting the corners of her mouth. Soon, she thought. Very soon.
17
Graelam stood against the door of his bedchamber, his arms crossed over his chest, watching Kassia walk slowly toward his chair and ease down on its edge.
“Why did you run from me?” he asked abruptly.
She did not look up. He saw her hands twisting frantically in her lap.
“Why?” he repeated.
“I . . . I don’t know,” she said finally.
His dark eyes gleamed. “Could it be, my lady wife,” he drawled softly, “that you were jealous? Nan is a comely wench, and enjoys a man well.”
Her head shot up, and he felt a stab of anger at the incredulous look on her face. Was she so impervious to him then?
“Aye, jealous,” he repeated, even more softly this time.
The words tumbled out before she could halt them. “Jealous because my husband takes another woman? Nay, my lord. If you do not choose to honor our marriage vows, who am I to gainsay you?”
“Then why did you run from me?”
“I . . . I did not wish to stay,” she said, knowing he could see the lie in her eyes. She could not answer his question, even to herself. She had felt fury and such unhappiness that she had not thought clearly. She had thought only to escape.
“Ah, Kassia,” he said, striding toward her. “You begin to try my patience.” He saw her eyes darken as he approached her, and her slender body stiffen. He stopped. “You are such a curious little thing,” he said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “You strike me, revile me, and tremble with fear before me. And you lie to me. Come here, Kassia.”
She heard the steel in his voice, even though he had spoken softly, almost meditatively. Slowly, hating herself for her cowardice, she rose and walked to him. She stiffened when he closed his hands over her arms.
“Look at me,” he said.
She obeyed him.
“Listen well, wife, for I will not tell you again. You will keep your winsome smiles to yourself, and away from Sir Guy, or any other of my men for that matter. And, Kassia, if ever you do something so stupid as attempt to flee from me, I will treat you like an ill-broken mare.” His hands tightened on her arms. “Do you understand me, wife?”
“I understand you,” she whispered.
“Do you? Do you really? I wonder. Your father was like soft rain flowing through your small fingers, wasn’t he? He suffered your woman’s demands, your woman’s wiles, without complaint. Indeed, he was so besotted with you that he did not see the power you wielded over him. I am not your father. To assist you to understand me, I will be more specific, my lady. If ever again you attempt to flee from me, I will tie you to my bed. I will spread your legs wide, and I will use you until I am tired of your skinny body. Now do you understand?”
“I understand,” she whispered again.
“Good.” He released her and calmly began removing his clothing. He paused a moment, then strode naked to the door and opened it.
“Evian!” he bellowed.
The small boy scampered up from his pallet. “Aye, my lord?”
“Fetch me a goblet of wine, boy.”
Graelam turned and stood indolently by the open door, as if daring her to gaze upon him. “You do not wish to look upon your husband?”
Kassia felt a frisson of alarm. She moistened her lips and forced herself to gaze at him. “I am looking,” she said.
“Do you feel no quickening between your slender thighs my lady? No desire to share your husband’s bed?”