“You do not want him?” Amelia pressed.
“I have said I do not,” Leonie replied impatiently.
“Then you will be relieved to know he will not trouble you. He…marries you for your land only. You see, he has me to see to his…other needs.”
“Oh?”
Amelia frowned at the sarcastic tone. “We do not have to be enemies, you and I. If you do not want him, then you can hardly object if I have him.”
“I do not object. You are welcome to him. But you have not relieved my mind. Why does he wish to marry me when there are any number of women with more land than I?”
“It is Pershwick he wants, because of the trouble there, which you must know more about than I. I can only tell you what his friend Thorpe told me only this morning. Rolfe is a man of temper, and a man of the moment. If he wanted grander estates, he would have gone after them. If he wants them in the future, he will go after them. He always gets what he wants, and he wanted the troubles with Pershwick ended so he offered for you. When he was refused he went to see the king. Now he has what he wants.”
“So he does.” Leonie’s voice was subdued, for all her fears had been confirmed. “Tell me only this,” she asked quickly. “Do you know what he plans for me?”
“He said he would send you away after the wedding.”
“Away? Where?”
“I do not know, but—”
A knock interrupted them, and Judith entered. Even that lady was shocked to see what Richer had done. She shivered, remembering her beating at William’s hands.
The girl’s stunning beauty had vanished beneath her swollen and blackened face. The silver-blond hair flowed softly about her shoulders. The well-rounded little figure was clad in a tightly laced long-sleeved dark gray chemise with a pale gray overtunic embroidered in silver thread. The tunic had full sleeves to the elbow and was slit up the sides to reveal more of the chemise. A silver corded girdle emphasized the tiny waist. But the lovely body did not distract from the horror of her face.
“You are here for a reason, Judith?” Leonie asked coldly as Judith continued staring at her face.
“You will not appear like that,” Judith stated.
“Why? Am I not properly attired for a wedding?”
“It is time.” At those words, Amelia left the room. Judith remarked distastefully, “I am surprised you would talk to that woman, Leonie. Do you not know she is his mistress?”
“If I did not know, then I have you to thank for telling me.”
Judith chose not to react to the sarcasm. “Come. Your father is waiting to escort you. And your husband is already at the altar. He knows you had to be forced, so if you wish to appear as you are, you shame only yourself. I thought that story about the rash was rather clever for your aunt’s benefit.”
“It was for Sir Guibert’s benefit, to keep him fromkilling my father’s man. And no, I will not appear like this, for the same reason.”
With slow deliberation, Leonie put her veil back on and smoothed its folds. Sight through the thick material was distorted at best, but Leonie could see through only one eye anyway. She had to tilt her head back to see at all, and this gave the mistaken impression that she was looking down her nose at people. Under the circumstances, the mistake suited her very well.
“I am ready,” she said bravely, and Judith was a little taken aback by her courage.
At the entrance to the small chapel, Sir William took his daughter’s hand and placed it on his arm, though she refused to give him a single glance. In the chapel she saw benches filled with guests and, at the altar, the large blurred form of a man. All her terror surged upward as her father began to walk her down the aisle.
“Leonie, if you ever have need of me—”
“You have shown how I may depend on you, Father,” she hissed. “You give me to this black rogue. Show me no more of your love and concern, I beg you.”
“Leonie!”
There was terrible pain in the exclamation, and the realization ripped through Leonie. But how dared he show his love now? How dared he make her remember the father he had once been? He had drink to make him forget their happy past, but what did she have? She could never forget.
She would have said as much, but the words could not get past the knot choking her throat. And then, in a moment, it was too late and she was left to stand beside the Black Wolf. She would wonder later how she’d managed to say the words that bound her to him.Was it only the fear she felt from the moment she heard his deep growling voice beside her?
Neither was Rolfe paying much attention to the priest’s words. He was fighting the bitter gall that had risen the moment he saw his bride. She was no bigger than a child, stood no higher than his chest. Had this little girl caused him so much trouble? And what made him ill was that she was covered from head to foot like a leper. Her vassal claimed she was concealing a rash. Did he believe that? Dared he hope it was something that would go away as Sir Guibert suggested?
To make this as awful a situation as possible, the girl’s stepmother had taken him aside to confess that it had been necessary to force the girl to comply with the king’s order. What had they done to her? Denied her a few meals, most likely. That mattered nothing to him. What mattered was her reluctance. He had riddled himself with guilt over his bride’s high expectations, and now it seemed she didn’t want him! He, who could have chosen a wife from all the beauties at court, was stuck with a reluctant bride!
