Page 21 of Katherine the Vixen

“Yes, you will. Good night. Be sure that I will never bother you again.”

Feeling her eyes fill with tears, Katherine ran away before he could see that she was crying. Behind her she thought she heard the ghost of a laugh.

6

Nothing.

His wife was standing in front of him in a shocking state of undress and yet Siaspar felt nothing except contempt. His senses did not stir once, his blood remained cool. It was not that she was ugly, far from it. The hair cascading down her shoulders appeared silky soft, her body was curvaceous and the blue of her eyes, pure as a summer’s sky.

Still she stirred absolutely no desire in him, the way a slice of roasted meat would not tempt a man who had seen the vermin crawling underneath before it was cooked. Fortunately, he could always pretend to be aroused. If he behaved as if he wanted her, she would not know that his manhood was actually as limp as a worm.

He walked forward. The last month, when he had gone out of his way to make her uncomfortable and think him uncouth, had been surprisingly entertaining, but this would be his most enjoyable taunt yet.

After an intense discussion with Cadell, Siaspar had agreed not to confront his wife just yet. For one thing, he had been busy overseeing the ploughing and the sowing of the crops in the fields. This crucial moment of the year required all his attention, and he refused to let his despicable wife compromise the future harvest. For another, there was still time. He had only been married a month and at the moment, his wife was surrounded by Welsh people who did not know her and would support him in preference to her.

Even if she intended to stir trouble there was nothing she could do.

“You are dismissed,” he told the two ladies lurking in the background. He would not be surprised if Lady Malpas had instructed her women to remain with her at all times, so she could avoid finding herself alone with a husband she hated. Still, everyone knew they could not ignore a direct order from him. After a deep curtsy, the ladies went.

“May I ask why you are here at this time, my lord?” Lady Malpas looked more nervous than he had ever seen her since she’d arrived.

“You may,” he answered, deciding to be gracious for once. “But I would have thought that the presence of your husband in your bedchamber at this time of night is explanation enough.”

“You… You never announced your intention of c-coming to me this evening,” she stammered.

“No, I did not. But surely it makes no difference whether I do or not?”

He kept his face impassive but, of course, he knew the answer to that question. It made all the difference in the world, since it meant that she had not had the opportunity to call for Katherine to come and take her place. His hand went to his scabbard and he started to undo the buckle slowly, his gaze fastened on Lady Malpas. He saw her gulp and he barely refrained from smiling. How was she going to get herself out of this?

“Forgive me, but I cannot share your bed tonight, my lord.”

“Oh? I am curious, I will admit, as to why that might be.”

“Lent,” she blurted out. “My confessor has impressed upon me the need for total abstinence during this holy period.”

Siaspar had no idea how he managed to remain expressionless. Of all the excuses he had expected her to use, this was one of the most improbable ones. He had imagined she would resort to pretending that her courses had started, or feign some mysterious illness. He could not fault her for ingenuity. Lent! He almost laughed out loud.

At least, he had the confirmation that she was prepared to go to extreme lengths to avoid being bedded by him. But she had no other choice, for how would she explain that she was still a virgin after being bedded twice—and the second time rather thoroughly? Abstaining for Lent would give her some weeks to come up with a solution to this dilemma.

A dilemma she had probably never imagined she would have to face. Katherine had revealed that his wife had hoped he would not bother with her once their marriage was consummated, at least for a while. So what would she do? Would she ask someone else to deflower her before Easter? Surely she could not expect to use the same stratagem all her life and ask a servant to take her place every time her husband wanted to bed her?

His jaw clenched. This situation would quickly become untenable for both of them.

“I am gratified to see you so observant in your religious duties. No doubt it is atonement for some dark sin you committed in the past.”

Instead of answering, she lowered her eyes to the floor. Siaspar arched a brow. Had the woman committed some dark deed? It would not surprise him, but now was not the time to worry about her past. He wasn’t even sure he cared.

“May I point out that Lent starts tomorrow, however?” he carried on, determined to rattle her peace of mind. “We could sleep together tonight. I’m sure Father Bernard would not object. I am your legally wedded husband, after all.”

He placed his sword belt on the chest, making his intention to bed her clear. Of course, in reality, she was in no danger; he had absolutely no intention of going through with what would be an ordeal for both of them. This woman repelled him, and he only wanted to unsettle her. What he had seen of her in the last few weeks had transformed what had once been mere dislike into profound disgust.

“We cannot share a bed, my lord, for if you bedded me tonight, then I would begin Lent with your…seed still inside me.”

Though she tried to suppress a shiver at the idea, Siaspar saw her distaste. This was not part of the act; she was truly revulsed at the idea of him touching her.

“Yes. You would be soiled by my accursed Welsh seed, making an accursed Welsh monster in your womb.” He picked up the sword belt he had put on the chest only a moment ago. The demonstration had been crystal clear. His wife hated him, she could not bear the thought of him touching her. And now he just wanted to go. There was only so much he could take without retaliating. “I see that the begetting of an heir will have to wait until Easter, my lady.”

He could not resist this last pique. Let her worry over this problem for the next few weeks. It was nothing less than she deserved.