Page 18 of Katherine the Vixen

“She thinks you are a brute, a coarse savage and cannot bear the thought of you touching her,” she said hurriedly, her cheeks pinkening to a deep color. “She hoped you would only bed her once and be done with it. She didn’t think you would want to bed her again for months.”

“A brute. A coarse savage,” Siaspar repeated. That did have the ring of truth at last. He knew that was what his wife—and half of England—thought. “Well. Of course. I should have known.”

He clenched his jaw and started to pace in front of her in an attempt at calm.

“You are angry,” Katherine whispered, as if regretting her honesty.

“Yes, I am angry, damn you,” he roared, rounding back on her. “How could I not be after what you told me, after what you and your mistress had the gall to do!”

He brought his face down to her until their noses were almost touching. It was only when he heard her strangled moan that he realized it would appear to onlookers as if they were about to kiss. He drew back, annoyed at himself. What the hell was he doing? Berating her or seducing her?

Getting angry or aroused?

“Seeing as you are so scrupulous about obeying orders,” he hissed, “you will now do exactly what I tell you. You will not warn Lady Mapas, my wife, I should say, that her little deception has been discovered, do you hear? She cannot know that I’m aware of the real state of our marriage.”

Because he was certain there was more to it than what Katherine had told him. He was convinced the lady meant to use the lack of consummation in some way and at least now he would be one step ahead of her.

Katherine was nodding slowly, eyes wide. Siaspar knew she would not breathe a word of their conversation to Lady Malpas. He could tell that she bore her mistress no love and was frightened of what he might do to her in his anger. Under normal circumstances he would have hated to see a woman tremble in front of him, but right now it suited him just fine. She deserved everything he decided to inflict on her for going along with a humiliating scheme instead of coming to him to reveal Lady Malpas’s plans.

“Go,” he instructed her tersely. “And rest assured that I will not give you two another opportunity to make a mockery of me.”

After Katherine’s departure, it took a long time for Siaspar to calm down.

He would not go to Lady Malpas just yet, not while he was seething. It was most important that she should believe herself immune from his wrath for now and he needed time to think, find a way to deal with the situation. Perhaps he should go see Cadell tomorrow, see what he thought.

He clenched his jaw. His wife thought him a rough savage, did she? Well, he would enjoy proving her right.

The opportunity to do so came up the following morning.

For the first time since their marriage, Lady Malpas came to break her fast in the great hall, accompanied by her two ladies. This was his chance to rankle her and show her the kind of man she thought she was married to.

Throughout the meal, Siaspar made a point of ignoring her and not speaking a word of English, addressing his men in Welsh instead, making sure to talk louder than usual and laugh with his mouth full.

“Well, that was delicious,” he finally said in her language.

On impulse, he let out a belch, then sat back on his chair and placed his boots on the table. His squire Gwyn’s eyes widened in disbelief—with reason. He had never seen his master behave so appallingly before, much less in the presence of ladies. Lady Malpas’ mouth contorted in a grimace. Lady Helen threw her a glance, signifying that she had expected nothing less from him and was pleased to see her suspicions confirmed.

He snorted. This was even easier than he had imagined—and rather enjoyable.

“Was the bara lawr not to your liking, my lady?” he asked, gesturing at the black paste by her side, which had remained untouched, as he’d predicted.

Last night he had ordered the cook to prepare the traditional seaweed purée eaten by the local peasants, knowing that English nobles would be unused to its gelatinous texture and object to the lack of refinement. Also, because he happened to like it. It had been his grandfather’s favorite and he didn’t see why he should stop eating it because he was now master of a castle.

“Well,” she said hesitantly. “It was certainly…different.”

“Good,” he said, choosing to behave as if this were a compliment even though it clearly wasn’t. “If you like things that are different, from now on I will ask the kitchen to serve up more traditional Welsh fare. The rest might be less unusual than seaweed but it⁠—”

“My lord! You mean to tell me that this is… That we just ate seaweed?”

The three English women stared at him in horror.

“Why yes, I thought you knew? What else does it look like? Not meat, for certain,” Siaspar said innocently. “But not to worry, even if the mixture were poisonous, which it isn’t, you barely ate half a spoonful of it so you should be all right. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to go help butcher the deer my men captured yesterday. There’s nothing I like more than tearing into the carcass with my bare hands.”

The scowl he got in return was ample reward for his efforts.

Yes. This little game could prove quite enjoyable, after all.

“Who goes there?”