“Perhaps I’ll give up the money and keep you for myself.” His eyes were shining, and he was breathing hard. “Believe me, Catherine, I could make you call out my name and beg for more.”
She was too late in wiping the revulsion from her face. He released her chin and grabbed her wrist.
“Then you shall go to that vulgar Welshman, who will use you as roughly as a whore and give away your child.”
She felt his anger like the edge of a blade against her skin. She tried to pull her hand out of his grasp, but he held it in an iron grip.
“But I shall have you first,” he said, jerking her to her feet. “I want William to come home and smell another man on your sheets.”
Chapter Thirty-two
William and his men raced in silence through the increasingly gray afternoon light. All the while, he prayed he was wrong. Prayed she was safe. Prayed Edmund feared him enough not to do it. Edmund must know William would follow him across the earth and into hell to kill him if he…
The sun dipped below the horizon, and the air turned bitter cold. It was not the cold, however, but a sense of foreboding that sent a shiver up his spine.
At long last, the outline of Ross Castle was dimly visible in the early darkness of the winter evening. William pushed his tired horse harder over the last stretch and reached the gate ahead of his men. When he roared at the guards, nothing happened. They neither called back nor dropped the drawbridge. He looked at the gatehouse and the towers. No torchlight. All was dark, as if the castle were abandoned, empty of every living soul.
God help him. They took his castle. His wife and Jamie were inside. The protection of every member of the household was his responsibility. Somehow, he had to get inside. He thought of all his work, strengthening the castle’s defenses. He could see the storage rooms filled with sacks of grain to withstand weeks, even months, of siege.
It would take him at least two days to get a siege tower here. Too much could happen in two days. He could not wait that long. He heard the trampling and snorting of the other horses as his men joined him.
“Ropes,” he shouted at them, panic rising in his throat. “We need ropes to climb the walls.”
The men were silent. One or two might carry a bit of rope, but it was unlikely to be long enough to scale the curtain wall.
“William.”
He turned toward his brother’s voice in the darkness.
“I know a way.”
Catherine screamed as Edmund dragged her across the solar toward the threshold to the bedchamber.
“No one will come,” he shouted over her screams.
As he carried her toward the high bed, memories of Rayburn came crashing down on her. She kicked and screamed and clawed at his face. She would not be taken against her will again without a fight.
He pushed her onto the bed and straddled her. Holding her wrists over her head, he leaned down close to her face. “We can do this rough or not,” he rasped, breathing hard. “The choice is yours, but I will have you one way or the other.”
She struggled against him, but he held her fast. Holding her with one hand, he reached inside his tunic and pulled out a length of rope.
God help her, he meant to tie her down!
He put his mouth against her ear and said, “Aye, Catherine, I will do it.”
He pulled back to look at her, but he was still close enough for her to feel his breath on her face. It smelled of sour wine.
“You may as well cooperate and enjoy yourself,” he said, his voice almost playful. “Then you can tell me if I am better than William.”
He put his palm to her cheek and rubbed his thumb across her bottom lip. “What say you, Catherine? How shall it be?”
It was difficult to think with him holding her down, but she could not let him tie her. She must have her hands free to have any chance at all.
“Will you promise to be careful of my baby?” Her voice came out faint and high-pitched.
“Very, very careful,” he purred.
She swallowed and nodded. “All right, I will do it willingly. But you frightened me badly. You must give me time to calm myself… if… if I am to enjoy myself.”
