Page 6 of Katherine the Vixen

Yes… But beautiful as she was, Lady Malpas did not stir his blood in any way. Most people, him included, would have called the wedding night an unpleasant moment for the bride, not the groom. He was fast coming to change his opinion. Evidently, it could be both. Bedding this woman would be as close to an ordeal as lovemaking could ever be.

He steeled himself because there was no other choice. No one could do it in his place.

Lady Malpas—he still refused to give her her proper title in his mind—had told him that she was aware of what was expected of her and would not deny him his rights. Siaspar had almost laughed out loud at the word. His rights! She had made it sound as if he should be honored to be allowed to touch someone like her but to him it felt more like a chore than a privilege to take this cold, haughty woman to bed.

There would be nothing pleasurable in doing what was expected of him.

He would have to bed her in total darkness, for she had informed him during the wedding feast that she would not countenance for it to happen any other way. That suited him fine, because he’d rather not see her disapproving scowl or witness her grimace of pain when he took her maidenhead. In the dark, he would be able to imagine she was one of his lovers. She would not be his reluctant bride but someone else, someone he had chosen.

Siaspar drained the remainder of his wine and went up to her room before he could persuade himself that he could simply lie about having consummated the union. He could not do such a thing, as the lady might use the excuse later on to annul this marriage she had never desired.

That could not be allowed to happen.

Tonight, whether he wanted it or not, Lady Malpas would be bedded.

2

Heart beating hard in her chest, Katherine waited for Siaspar to enter the room.

To stop panic from overwhelming her, she thought about her family, and the relief they would feel when they finally received the money she was owed and her father was released. The thought that she was about to save them brought some balm to her soul for a moment. Then, inevitably, her mind wandered back to the task ahead.

Siaspar ap Morgan. Sha-sparr. The English called him Jasper, she had noticed, which was easier to say, but she thought it better to use his real name in her mind.

She did not know anything about the man, had not even caught a glimpse of him when he had ridden into Castell y Ddraig’s bailey the other day. Was he blond or dark? Heavily built or frail as a child? Of a tempestuous disposition or meek as a lamb? Lady Malpas had called him a savage, an animal. What did that mean? Would he prove to be violent? Would he hurt her?

The thought almost had her running to the door.

She stayed where she was. Lady Malpas was in the next room, listening. What she would do if she realized that Katherine, a lowly servant, had jeopardized the execution of her plans did not bear thinking about. There was no choice. The marriage had to be legal and binding. And even if Siaspar was violent, the whole thing would be over in a moment. Given what the bride and groom thought about each other, it was unlikely that he would linger in his wife’s bed any longer than necessary.

Before dawn the union would be consummated, Lady Malpas would be satisfied and her family would be saved.

As for Katherine, she would be ruined. She would never be able to talk to anyone about what had happened. Tonight’s dealings would have to remain a secret. If she got married one day, she would have to explain to her groom why she was not an innocent maid. What could she say that would not shame her? Nothing. On second thought, it might be better to simply fake the loss of her maidenhead on her wedding night, for even if she married a man who loved and trusted her, who would believe her outlandish story?

One thing was for sure. She would never tell her parents what had happened. Knowing that she had ruined herself for their sake would be too heavy a burden to bear.

But what if she fell with child after her night with the Welshman?

There would be no recourse. Lady Malpas would not help her and Siaspar would not believe her claim that the baby was his, for which he could not be blamed. If the little scullion he had never met told him she was carrying his child she would be dismissed as a liar, a deluded schemer, a crazed fool.

No. She was stuck in her own nightmare.

A sob escaped Katherine’s throat. She instantly stuffed her head into the pillow for fear Lady Malpas should overhear her distress and come chide her.

A moment later the door opened.

Siaspar.

“Go drapia!” he swore. “’Tis darker than the pit of hell in here!”

It was, which was the whole point. But what if he decided to light a candle? What would Katherine do then? To her relief, he did not protest.

Instead, leaving the door open to make the most of the light of the torch burning in the staircase, he unbuckled his sword belt and started to get undressed. Katherine watched his frame lit by the distant flames and allowed herself to relax somewhat. He was tall, lean but well-proportioned, nothing like the deformed man or the burly warrior she had started to convince herself he was. Heart in her throat, she watched him discard his clothes one by one until he was completely naked. As planned, she did not utter a single sound during the whole process, which was not difficult, as she was paralyzed with fright.

Once he was undressed, Siaspar closed the door and walked over to her. He cursed at length in his language when his foot hit the side of the bed, but he offered her no reproach and didn’t ask for any candles to be lit. It struck Katherine as odd that despite his obvious displeasure—and the discomfort it brought him—he respected his wife’s wishes to be bedded in the dark. That was a mark of consideration few men would have given their new bride.

“Right, my lady,” he said, sounding weary, a far cry from the lust-filled man she had dreaded to see. “Let’s get this over with.”

He settled next to her, the bed sagging under his weight. This was it. Katherine gripped the sheet under her, praying for courage. A heartbeat later, a hand lifted the hem of her shift, skimming her flesh lightly as it went. She screwed her eyes shut but otherwise stayed completely still.