“We’ll see you wed here on the morrow. I order a feast to be prepared! I’m only sorry the queen will not witness it—she has so long despaired of seeing you marry, Radulf.”
There was a note of sadness in his voice. Happily married and deeply in love, William would never risk his wife, so he had returned Matilda to Normandy.
Radulf bowed and led Lily away, pretending not to notice her struggles.
“You have chosen a wildcat to take to wife, Radulf.”
The voice was sweet and melodious, and despite her own tumultuous feelings, Lily sensed Radulf’s shock on hearing it. Instinctively she turned toward the speaker, and found that it was the same golden-eyed woman she had noticed earlier. The lady stood, a half smile on her wide mouth, very secure in her fine velvet gown. A smooth strand of dark hair curled at her brow, the remainder covered with a gossamer veil. Not in her first youth, she was nevertheless breathtakingly beautiful.
“Radulf?” she queried with a laugh when he did not answer her, but Lily sensed a touch of pique.
Radulf bowed, a brief tilt of his dark head. His movements, always so graceful despite his size, seemed suddenly clumsy. “Lady Anna.”
The golden eyes slid over him, devouring him.
“You have not changed,” she said, but Radulf had already turned away.
Taking long strides toward the door, he pulled the now subdued Lily along behind him. As they passed into the outer chamber, Lily finally managed to free herself. She spun to face him, stiff and white.
With a resigned and heartfelt sigh, Radulf prepared himself for the onslaught. He felt physically and mentally drained, and now Anna was there to complicate matters. But he had expected Lily to be angry, and after what had been said about her and done to her, it was natural she would want her say.
“I will never marry you!” Her voice was trembling uncontrollably. “All Normans are greedy land-grabbing monsters! I had thought Vorgen bad enough, but now I see that you are worse!”
She swung her arm, aiming blindly.
Radulf easily caught the blow in his palm, folding her shaking hand into his. He lifted an eyebrow and replied mildly, “You know that is not true. I have lands enough, and no love for your northern wilds. I agreed to take them because I feared what would happen to them if I did not. And as for marriage . . . if you do not marry me, lady, then you will be imprisoned for the rest of your life. Tell me, would you prefer to be shackled by a vow, or by irons?”
“Irons!” Her voice bit, stirring his own anger despite his determination to listen to her complaints with patience. “I was wed to one Norman, and I’d rather die than be wed to another!”
“Lady—” he warned.
“No! Take me back! I will speak again with your king. I am the granddaughter of Harald Hardraada, the king of Norway! I am the daughter of an English earl—”
He grasped her shoulders and shook her, until her voice faltered and stopped.
“The king has ordered that we marry, and you will marry me tomorrow and smile and pretend you like it. Just as I will. I have your lands now, and the ruling of your precious people. If you argue with me, if you disobey me, I will take my vengeance out on them.”
He did not mean it. He had never been a man who vented his spleen on the defenseless, but Lily could not know that. Her gray eyes glittered silver with tears.
“Why?” she gasped. “Why marry a woman you hate . . . who hates you? Is it to punish me? I do not understand,” she wailed, “why could you not have refused!”
He looked down at her a moment longer. “If I had refused then William would have found you another Norman, one less amenable then I.”
She made a most unladylike sound.
He smiled coldly. “It was my pride you dented with your tricks and your lies, not some other Norman’s. I will have my revenge on you my way. And what better revenge than to have you as my wife, in my power, forever?”
Lily flushed again with what he assumed was anger, but was actually horror. Her heart was thumping like a muffled drum, and for a long moment she thought she really might faint. She knew very well the fate that lay before her as the wife of a man who hated her.
“And if I do not wed you, you will ravage my lands?” she whispered.
“Aye,” he blustered.
She said nothing, giving him a wild look.
“But there is something apart from all that, lady. Another consideration.”
“Oh?” She managed through her aching throat.
