FORBIDDEN FRUIT

By

Jaide Fox

© copyright by Jaide Fox, July 2005

Cover art by Eliza Black, June 2008

ISBN 978-1-60394-202-7
New Concepts Publishing

Lake Park, GA 31636

www.newconceptspublishing.com

This is a work of fiction. All characters,
events, and places are of the author’s imagin-
ation and not to be confused with fact. Any

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resemblance to living persons or events is
merely coincidence.

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Chapter One

Lilith Somerset was miserable, in every way
that a person could be miserable--mind,
body, and soul.

She despised being forced into marriage,
even to a rich man rumored to be incredibly
handsome. Rumor or truth, it mattered not.
She hated having no power to make her own
choices in life, her freedom lost to the whims
of men.

Even her journey echoed the mind-numbing
pain she felt, and as gratified as she was that
her doom was slow in coming, it was still in-
evitable. She had only to look at her sur-
roundings to know that she was in John
Dentin’s, her betrothed’s, power—his car-
riage, his overseer, and his riders. Even the
gown she wore—he had bought for her. Her
body was no longer her own. In a few days,
he would complete his purchase by rutting
her in front of his friends and family, forever
sealing their fate as man and wife.

Her mind alone remained free, but she was
so preoccupied by her coming nuptials, she
could think of little else.

The road—if such it could be called—bearing
her to her new life was full of ruts from the
recent monsoons, jouncing the carriage with
each wheel rotation—its being well sprung

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and padded having no discernable effect on
her comfort. She could see nothing from the
windows to distract her from the turmoil of
her mind, for a thick fog lay over the land,
forcing the riders to light torches to see. Only
the faint glow and the whinnying protests of
the horses alerted her to the fact that she was
not alone in her traveling misery.

She felt claustrophobic in the confined space,
with only Dentin’s overseer, Fargus Leks, as
company. Poor company at best. At the
worst, a lascivious nuisance. He’d begun
staring at her as if he’d like to eat her once
they were out of her father’s lands—beyond
his protection.

She’d done her best to ignore him, feeling
safe from his advances only with the know-
ledge that her soon to be husband was ob-
sessed by her purity and would likely cut off
a man’s privates for daring to touch her.

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If only she’d been allowed to bring her maid,
Sarah … or a tome of poetry … or her
embroidery….

If only….

Lilith fumed mentally and squirmed in her
seat, trying to awaken the feeling back in her
buttocks.

Fargus smiled at her breasts, making her feel
drenched in oil. He never missed an oppor-
tunity to remind her that he was there.
“Anxious to meet your betrothed, my dear?”

She sent him a look, recognizing his implica-
tion at once. She ignored it. “How much
farther must we travel?” She could hardly
wait to be free of him. Men were such pigs!

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His eyes never detoured from her chest. “I
suspect many hours yet. I’ve no notion of
how long it will take in this blasted fog. The
rains came sooner than we expected.”

It had been like that for two years … ever
since her mother had died. They had no way
of predicting the weather. It seemed almost
as if the Goddess herself mourned the loss of
Her daughter.

He tore his gaze from her chest to slide open
a window and call to a guard. The rider
pulled alongside the carriage. “Aye, sir?”

“What make you of our progress?”

The man looked ahead, as if he could will the
fog to part. “I expect we’ll have to make camp
soon. Dusk approaches. We’ll not reach
Dentin Keep by nightfall.”

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Fargus grunted in response and slid the win-
dow closed. Lilith opened hers, looking up at
the sky. She could tell nothing of the
time—day or night. The entire world seemed
shrouded by a gray pall.

Somewhere in the distance, the piercing call
of a bird of prey echoed. Another answered
… then another. A falcon perhaps? She
thought. Or an eagle?

A gathering wind swirled the mist around
them, cloaking and then revealing her travel
guard.

The horses neighed, snorting in protest. The
rider nearest them barely kept his horse
from bolting. Another reared, the rider’s
torch falling to the ground, mud hissing un-
der naked flame.

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A vague sense of uneasiness settled over her.
She gripped the window sill, watching a slow
build of chaos erupt around them as the mist
swirled.

Someone up ahead cried out and was ab-
ruptly silenced. The carriage slammed to a
halt, nearly flinging her from her seat.

Fargus looked alarmed. “What is it?” he
yelled to the driver and received no response,
not daring to open his window to investigate.

Lilith wanted to close hers, but then she
could hear nothing and see even less.
“Shhh!” she hissed, craning her head, trying
to see what was happening.

She knew by now they were being attacked,
but by who and where?

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A bird cried, high pitched, right above them.
Someone screamed. She jerked her head in
that direction, trying to see. Torches flew
past. Horses bucked, throwing their riders.

“Circle! Circle round the carriage! Defend
Lady Lilith!”

No one came. Either they were too busy
fighting … or most were already dead.

Something heavy slammed into the ground
behind them, in front. The carriage rocked
violently, the front jackknifed a foot in the
air, crashing back onto its wheels with bone
jarring force. Lilith caught herself on the
window, looking around wildly.

Fargus screamed and opened his door, van-
ishing into the mist, leaving her to fend for
herself.

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Lilith watched him go, frozen in place. Her
pulse thundered in her ears. She snatched
the door shut, wondering if she would be
better off huddled inside the carriage or run-
ning around outside like a mad woman. She
knew the countryside. There was almost no
ground cover, nowhere to hide unless she
crawled under a rock.

She couldn’t sit here, not with the sounds of
battle outside. She wasn’t a coward, but she
wasn’t a fool either. Whoever was attacking
either wanted her or wanted money—either
way, the carriage would be their target.

Steeling herself, she opened the door and
dropped to the ground. Her legs immediately
tried to collapse from her weight and hours
of disuse. She clung to the door, gaining her
balance, fighting the panic that welled in her
chest and threatened to crush her lungs and
heart with fear.

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Wings flapped above her, pushing great
gusts of wind that swirled the mist around
her, blinding her further.

Lilith hobbled forward, her heart in her
throat. It was something huge. Whatever
stalked her from the sky had to be monstrous
in size to produce such hard currents of wind
when it flapped its wings. She froze, wonder-
ing which direction safety lay. There was no
safety on the road at all, she knew. Everyone
had fled or was dead.

Turning, she moved as quickly as she could
into the meadow alongside the road. There
were no trees, but she thought she might find
a shallow ditch to hide herself in. She had
stumbled only a little ways into the meadow,
however, when she heard the great flutter of
wings above her again.

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It swooped low, landing only a few arm’s
lengths in front of her. Horror filled her
when she saw what manner of beast it was,
for it was a griffin—the wings and head of an
eagle, the body of a lion. Upon the beast’s
back sat a man in leather armor, a warrior of
formidable proportions. His expression hard
and uncompromising, he leapt from the
griffin’s back and strode toward her, his
cloak and long blond hair fluttering around
him. The purposefulness of the warrior’s ap-
proach galvanized her, freeing her from her
frozen state of terror. She turned to run. She
had barely launched herself into flight,
however, when he caught her from behind,
his arms snaking around her waist and
jerking her off her feet.

Screaming in fear and anger, she whirled to
fight her attacker. He released her abruptly.
Grabbing her flailing arms and thrusting

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them behind her back, he jerked her up
against him.

“Cease,” he growled. “No harm will come to
you.”

She didn’t believe him. He’d attacked her
coach with his beasts. “I’m to take the word
of a highwayman? Take what you want and
go!” she commanded.

He looked at her hard for several moments.
“Very well, my lady,” he growled. Releasing
her wrists, he bent over, pressing his
shoulder against her rib cage as he caught
her around the knees and tossed her over his
shoulder.

Lilith was so stunned by the move that he
was halfway back to the griffin before she’d
recovered enough to fight him again,
screaming and kicking and clawing at his

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leather jerkin. His hand came down on her
rump. Hard.

“Be still, you shrewish wench!”

Lilith gasped in outrage, both at his familiar-
ity with her rump in manhandling her and
his derogatory comments. “Shrew! How dare
you call me a shrew, you knave! You bastard
of a wart hog! You scum of humanity! Put me
down this instant! My betrothed will skewer
you like the pig you are.”

He set her down so abruptly her arms pin-
wheeled and she landed on her already ab-
used rear. She’d barely bounced to a halt
when he fell to his knees, straddling her legs.

Horror filled her. Her eyes widened. My
Goddess, she thought, he means to rape me.

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She was so stunned, he had already whipped
a scarf from his cuff, shoved it into her
mouth, and tied it around her head, before
she realized what he was about. Her scream
of outrage was muffled by the gag he’d
placed in her mouth. Enraged, she swung at
him. He grabbed her arm, dragging it behind
her back as he moved around her. Not to be
so easily thwarted, she swung backwards at
him with her other arm, clubbing him sever-
al times with her fist before he caught that
one, as well, binding her wrists together.

He was breathing heavily when he jerked her
to her feet. “Now, my lady,” he said through
clenched teeth, “Would you prefer to ride the
griffin astride, or on your belly? Because
either way, you’re coming with me.”

* * * *

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Lilith had never been more glad of anything
than when the griffin alit on solid ground.
Her ribs ached from being draped over the
back of the beast. Her buttocks were numb
from the frigid air fanning the skirts of her
gown. Her hair had come loose from its pins
and threatened to blind her.

The monster who had captured her climbed
down, dragging her from her perch. Her
knees wobbled and gave way, and she landed
in an ignominious heap on the planking of
the ramparts. She glared up at her
tormentor.

Without a word, he grasped her arms and
hauled her to her feet again. “Can you walk,
or must I carry you?”

If carrying her meant slinging her over his
shoulder, she didn’t think she could bear any

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more of that. “Mmmwahh,” she said around
her gag.

He pulled the gag away from her lips. “What
was that, my lady?”

“Pig,” she snarled.

He replaced the gag. Grabbing her around
the waist, he threw her over his shoulder.
She groaned.

She struggled for all the good it did. She was
no dainty bit of fluff. She stood toe to toe and
eye to eye with many men, could look down
upon more than she liked. This man still
towered over her and was strong as a bull be-
sides. Too tired to put up more than a token
protest for the moment, she gave up as he
crossed the bulwarks, trying instead to see
where he was taking her. She could see very
little beyond his back and the flooring they

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traversed, however, and the attempt to ob-
serve from her upside down position only
made her dizzy and ill. Fighting it, she closed
her eyes, merely listening as he walked
downstairs and passed through a doorway
into the castle, traversed several hallways
and finally entered a small room.

She didn’t realize it was to be her cell until he
deposited her on the narrow bed. She imme-
diately began kicking him as she landed on
her mattress, which she doubted was very
little softer than the floor, rolling onto her
back and arms for leverage. He grunted and
caught one foot, securing her ankle to a bed
post with a length of silken rope.

She screamed around the gag—muffled to fu-
tility—and kicked the side of his head as he
was bent over tying her down. He dropped
her foot, holding his cheek, turning a mur-
derous glare on her. Her belly quivered with

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fear, and she paused a moment, wondering if
she’d gone far enough to make him throttle
her. Grabbing the offending foot in a rough
grip, he secured it to the other post, leaving
her spread eagle.

He made short work of freeing her arms
from behind her back, moving quickly and
allowing her only a few scratches and slaps
before she was securely strapped down.

The silk rope held her taut, allowing her little
wiggle movement. It didn’t hurt or abrade
her wrists, but it wasn’t comfortable either.
Considerate bastard, she thought furiously,
wondering if he thought for one moment
that that small a consideration would make
her feel less murderous.

He was breathing heavily by the time he fin-
ished. Straightening, he stared down at her,

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giving her a hard once over. She tensed, ex-
pecting the worst.

He surprised her when he walked out of the
room without a word and slammed the door
shut.

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Chapter Two

Dominic Rainier waited until after he’d pos-
ted a guard to the wench’s room and was on
his way out of the castle to rub his aching
jaw.

He’d swear on his life the shrew had
loosened a few of his jaw teeth. He didn’t re-
member having a slight wiggle there before.

Without pausing, he strode out of the castle,
nursing his jaw as he walked the worn path
to the witch’s hut. He didn’t bother to knock
before going inside.

“I expected you’d be here soon enough,” the
old witch, Usha, said, smirking as she rocked
in her creaky chair. She didn’t look up from
the mending she held in her lap.

Dominic paced the small space furiously, try-
ing to ignore his throbbing jaw. “I don’t think
I can do this.”

“She is not comely enough to suit your
taste?”

Dominic glared at the old woman. “I could
not say if she is comely or not. She has done
nothing but snarl at me and curse me. How
am I to bed a woman whose only desire
seems to be to kill me?” Halting abruptly, he

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gave Usha a hard look. “Are you sure she’s
the one?”

She grunted as she stood and moved to a
chest tucked into the corner of the hut.
“She’s the one. I’ve seen her in my visions.”

He sighed in exasperation. “You don’t even
know what she looks like. How can you be so
sure?”

She chuckled, rummaging through the chest
until she brought out a brown jar sealed with
wax. “Dark skin and eyes, thick black hair,
taller than any female you’ve ever beheld?
She was traveling under John Dentin’s seal,
was she not?”

“Aye,” he conceded reluctantly.

“She’s the one.” She hobbled across the room
and handed him the jar. “Rub this oil over

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her skin. It will ease her struggles. ‘Twould
be better if you could woo her, I’ll grant you,
but you must plant your seed in her belly by
next moon, else your lands will not heal be-
fore winter, and we all shall die of hunger.”

He studied the jar, feeling doubtful anything
would calm that wild cat to his lovemaking,
but Usha had never steered him wrong be-
fore. And his people were depending upon
him.

“Very well,” he said grimly, but purposefully,
turning on his heel to perform his duty,
however distasteful it might be.

* * * *

She was pretending to be asleep. No doubt to
fool him into loosing her bonds and allowing
her escape … or to prevent him from desiring
to rape her. Of course, he couldn’t know the

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full extent of her plans, but Dominic had no
intention of letting her go, and he had every
intention of doing that most despicable deed.
He’d been forced to make many decisions in
the past for the sake of his lands and
people—decisions he wouldn’t have made
under other circumstances.

This time was no different. This time, in fact,
was a matter of life and death for the hun-
dreds of people too sick and weak to move on
to better lands.

He would do this and damn his soul for all
eternity. If the land bore fruit once more, if
the game returned, it would be worth it.

Dominic shook the thoughts aside. He was
having a hard enough time forcing his cock
to stand up without that distraction.

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The woman was a prize indeed. The Aurori-
ans had all but been wiped out by greed, for
they were loved by the gods and many be-
lieved they were blessed with the ability to
nurture the land and produce fruit where
none had been. He’d never seen one but re-
cognized the honey brown skin and thick
black hair from what tales he’d heard. He
shouldn’t have doubted Usha, not when he
knew the truth in his own heart.

He settled on the bed and tossed her skirts
up, revealing shapely golden brown calves
and thighs. She immediately roused—prov-
ing she’d never been asleep—and hollered,
bucking against the ropes.

He ignored her muffled screams and curses,
breaking the seal on the jar to pour clear, fra-
grant oil into his palms. The spices made his
nostrils tingle, smelling of roses and lav-
ender and a myriad of other scents he

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couldn’t place. He set the jar aside and star-
ted rubbing her calves, making her skin
gleam a rich gold.

The oil warmed as he touched her. His palms
prickled with sensation as he moved over her
knees, rubbing further up her thighs, moving
her dress higher and higher. He poured more
oil into his hands and worked it into her soft
flesh. Absorbed as he was exploring her legs,
he didn’t notice until he reached her upper
thighs that she was no longer trying to fight
him. Instead, she tried to spread her thighs
further. Her belly jerked with her heavy
breathing, and she looked at him beneath
heavy, drowsy lids.

Dominic crawled into the bed, kneeling
between her spread thighs. She was aroused,
he found, when he rubbed the tender lips
guarding the inner folds of her sex. He
fingered her cleft, swirling her cream.

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He hadn’t thought it was possible. The oil
was a godsend, and he made a mental note to
thank Usha for it later.

Smelling her light, musky scent made his
cock grow hard. His loins tightened pain-
fully. He pulled the ties holding his cod piece
in place, freeing his dick.

Grabbing the head, he guided it to her hole,
leaning over her for leverage enough to push
inside. She was tight, heightening his bur-
geoning desire. He could barely work past
the outer edges of her vagina. Gritting his
teeth, he braced his arms on either side of
her head, and thrust into her.

He felt skin rupture inside her, a great wash
of lubrication, and then he was in. She
writhed beneath him, tensing around his
shaft, screaming around her gag loud enough

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he felt sick to his stomach and his cock
threatened to wither inside her.

He could think of no polite way to have
sex—one that would allow her some dignity
once he was through. Better to have done
with it as quickly as possible, he decided,
knowing he would have done quickly, one
way or the other, either with success or fail-
ure. Ignoring her whimpers and moans of
pain, he began thrusting into her hard and
fast, wanting to get the job done. He’d never
had a problem before, but then again, he’d
never tried to take a woman that so obvi-
ously didn’t want him and it took every
ounce of concentration he could muster to
focus on the deed and not the woman. Sweat
broke on his brow with his efforts to force his
body to perform as commanded.

To his great relief, her hot, tight channel was
pleasurable enough to milk him quickly.

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Only a handful of minutes, a dozen strokes
and he groaned as his seed spilled deeply in-
to her womb. His cock was flaccid by the
time he pulled out and crawled off of her,
breathing raggedly.

He might have been alright with the deed if
he hadn’t looked at her. He wasn’t certain
why he did. When he glanced at her,
however, he saw the blood. It coated his dick
and her thighs, seeped onto the sheets.

Gods above, he’d hurt her. He had known he
must have. He just hadn’t known how much.

Bile rose in the back of his throat. His hands
shook as he wiped the blood off himself with
a rag and laced up his cod piece.

He couldn’t look at her as he left the room.

The guard outside stood at attention.

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“Summon Sarah. She is to tend the woman’s
hurts and feed her if she’s hungry.”

“As you wish, my lord,” the man-at-arms
said, leaving his station at once to tend to his
master’s bidding.

Dominic glanced at the door, realizing now
was probably the worse of times to leave it
unguarded, but the desire to put as much
distance between himself and what he’d
done was overwhelming. He left, striding
downstairs to the main hall for a drink. They
had precious little ale left, but he needed it. A
lot of it. His stomach knotted, cramping
painfully with guilt.

She was a virgin—had been. Fool that he
was, he had been so caught up in his own
concerns, so focused on ignoring everything
beyond his task, he hadn’t thought of it. He

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should have. He had hurt her unnecessarily.
He’d never had a virgin before, but he knew
how they were to be dealt with. With tender
care, slow lovemaking—not rough and fast
thrusting … and certainly not with a
stranger.

She didn’t even know his name.

Nor did he know hers, for that matter, but he
had preferred it that way. It had made it
easier not to think of her as an individual, a
frightened girl he’d abducted for his own
purposes.

Fool!

Furious with himself and shamed both by his
actions and the weakness that had led to it,
he snarled at his men lingering in the hall
until his place by the fire was devoid of com-
panionship. When he at last looked around

35/189

and discovered that he was alone, he roared
for ale, frightening a timid maid as she
brought it to him by glaring at her so bale-
fully she nearly dropped it, further exacer-
bating his frayed nerves. His hands shook as
he grasped the cup and brought it to his lips,
taking a deep draught.

Damn this curse! He raged, staring into the
dancing flames in the hearth, his mood as
black as his sins.

If she was angry before, she was going to be
murderous now. He had known circum-
stances prevented him from any chance of
wooing her first, or gaining her trust, per-
haps even her cooperation. He had known
tolerance was probably the very most he
could look forward to, but it had been no
part of his plan to make her hate him. He
had naught to look forward to now but more

36/189

days and nights of this, and he had no notion
of how to fix the mess he’d blundered into.

* * * *

The door to her room opened quietly. A
short, frail girl stepped inside, carrying a tray
with a steaming pitcher, a bowl of steaming
food, cloths, and a spoon. Evidently, she was
to be cared for and fed, Lilith thought, uncer-
tain of whether to be more disturbed by that
realization or less, for it implied that she was
expected to remain a while as prisoner of the
fiend who’d stolen her away.

There wasn’t a lot of comfort in the idea that
she was to be cared for and fed if that also
meant that she would have to endure more
of the same as she’d already experienced.

The girl set the tray down and went to a cab-
inet, pulling out fresh sheets. Turning, she

37/189

set them on the table beside the bed before
returning to the pitcher. When she had
poured the water into the cistern of the van-
ity across the room, she added cool water to
the mix from the washstand. Hefting the
heavy bowl, she crossed the room and knelt
by the bed, bringing up a shallow pan.

“Do you need to relieve yourself?” she asked.

She did. She nodded. Mortified, Lilith al-
lowed the woman to help her relieve herself,
and then the girl was dipping a cloth into the
warm water she’d brought to bathe Lilith.
The girl touched her swollen nether lips
gently, letting water trickle down.

Lilith took in a hard breath through her nos-
trils as pain shot in every direction from her
core. That bastard had carelessly hurt her,
rutting like the pig she’d called him. Her eyes
watered just thinking about her lost

38/189

virginity, but she quickly replaced that use-
less feeling with rage. He would pay for this,
she assured herself. One way or another, she
would make him pay.

The girl, she saw when she focused on her,
was older than she had originally thought.
Her slightness of body made her appear
younger, but her face was drawn, her eyes
sad and washed out. She carefully cleaned
and dried Lilith’s abused sex, making it feel
worlds better, before she pulled the wet,
stained sheets from beneath her and
struggled to put on new, clean bed clothes.

Bundling the soiled sheets, she returned to
the bed with the bowl and spoon and re-
moved Lilith’s gag.

Lilith worked her achy jaw back and forth.
The girl settled beside her, leaning over to
spoon a thick grey mush into her mouth.

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Lilith spit out the horrid mess instantly
without thinking, startling the girl as the
spoon flew from her mouth. The maid
dropped the bowl. It hit the bed and rolled
off onto the floor, sloshing grey muck all over
the floor.

The girl burst into tears, frantically scooping
the porridge back into the bowl.

Shame filled Lilith as she watched the girl’s
near hysterical efforts to clean up the mess.
It worsened as she saw the girl struggle to
master her tears until she began to feel like a
dog … lower … more like a slug. It wasn’t the
girl’s fault that she was here.

Anger filled her anew, for she didn’t doubt
for a moment that the reason the girl was so
upset was because she was fearful of that
cold blooded bastard that had kidnapped
her. She didn’t know who this man was or

40/189

why he wanted her, but she was going to kill
him the first chance she got.

She swallowed the lingering paste that
filmed her mouth, resisting the urge to gag.
“I’m sorry …?”

“Sarah,” the girl supplied quietly, straighten-
ing from her task to wipe the sludge off Li-
lith’s face and chest with a damp cloth.

“I am Lilith Somerset. I’m sorry, Sarah. I
didn’t intend to do that. I was just …
surprised.”

Sarah relaxed fractionally, even managing a
faint smile. “I should have warned you. It is
horrible.”

“I think I lost my appetite, but I would like
some water.”

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Sarah obligingly fetched her water, and Lilith
washed the taste from her mouth.

“Thank you.” She smiled, trying to reassure
the girl. “You must understand I’m angry at
my captivity. I didn’t mean to take it out on
you. I will save it for your master when I kill
him. What is your master’s name?”

Sarah looked alarmed. Her face blanched
white. “Oh lady! You must not! You can not
mean that! Lord Rainier is a good and kind
master. He thinks only of his people. It is be-
cause of us that he ….” She broke off ab-
ruptly, her eyes widening in horror as she
clamped her mouth shut. “I say too much. I
must go if you need nothing else.”

Lilith couldn’t help but be curious about the
girl’s behavior and what she’d claimed. She
could hardly credit it given her own experi-
ence with men, but it was certainly

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important to her to learn as much as possible
about her captor, however dubious the
nature of her informant, and however doubt-
ful she was of the accuracy of anything she
might learn.

Sarah’s ‘good and kind’ might mean she was
afraid to claim otherwise, or it might mean
that she was ‘favored’ by her master, but she
could not know that until she had gleaned as
much information from the girl as she could.

She wouldn’t get anything out of Sarah if she
left, but she couldn’t think of any reason for
her to stay. She certainly didn’t want more of
that horrible porridge, and she doubted the
floor had improved its taste. “Can you stay a
while?” she asked, trying not to sound as
desperate as she felt, for as little as she liked
to admit it even to herself she was
frightened. The girl’s presence was comfort-
ing and reassuring and something she

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needed at the moment beyond even
information.

“I’m sorry. I cannot, my lady. I have other
duties to perform.” She fluffed the pillow,
smoothing Lilith’s hair back as best she
could before gathering up the supplies she’d
brought in.

“When will you be back?”

“When Lord Rainier sends me,” she said,
backing out of the door and leaving Lilith
alone once more.

When the girl had gone, she lay staring at the
ceiling, fighting the urge to give in to her
fears. Rage was better, however much it
drained her of energy because it was so use-
less, but cleared headed thought—free of fear
or anger—was better still. She wondered why
she’d been brought here by Lord Rainier.

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Surely he had some other purpose than rap-
ing her?

It that had been the only purpose, why bring
her back to his castle at all? He could have
done that when he’d captured her and left
her where he had found her and none would
have been the wiser of who to blame for the
deed. For that matter, she couldn’t fathom
why he’d massaged that spellbinding oil on
her thighs, since she imagined most men
that raped enjoyed screams and struggles as
much as the rutting.

He had seemed … almost reluctant, she real-
ized after a while, but it hardly helped her
feelings to know that he had found it dis-
tasteful. She was more inclined to think it
had been purely her imagination, else why
do it at all?

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Ransom seemed the most likely answer of
why he had taken her to start with—particu-
larly when she considered the little she had
seen of the place, which she now realized im-
plied a desperate need for coin, but he did
not strike her as a fool. Surely he must know
that he had greatly decreased her value by
despoiling her?

Would her father pay it?

She thought that it was very doubtful John
Dentin would, since there would be no guar-
antee of her purity. That relieved her
somewhat.

At least she would not be forced into mar-
riage, but what did fate have in store for her
future?

She knew she could not live this way for
long. Her body ached from her position. The

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pillows did little to ease her discomfort.
She’d never been forced to be still for so
long. It would drive her mad to remain this
way for very long.

Time passed with agonizing slowness with
nothing but her thoughts for company, and
those unhappy ones to say the least. The
room dimmed, presumably as the sky
darkened, until she could barely see her sur-
roundings. The scraped hide covering the
window let little light through.

She had spent most of the day searching for
any possibility of freeing herself, and still,
she could see no way of escape. The window
looked too small for her to fit through, and
he’d not carried her far downstairs, which
meant her room was likely too far from the
ground to safely jump anyway. She’d heard a
guard outside her door, so that avenue was
cut off from her, as well.

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Not that it mattered. She had no way of cut-
ting her bindings off. He’d secured her far
too thoroughly. She had no leverage to work
the knots loose.

No, she was thoroughly caught. Until and
unless he trusted her enough to untie her,
she wouldn’t be going anywhere.

The realization that she was helpless to the
whims of another man set her teeth on
edge—from her father, to her betrothed, and
now into the hands of her captor! She had
thought it bad enough that she would be
made the wife of a man she did not even
know, but this was worse. She didn’t know
what to expect of Lord Rainier, but she had a
feeling that her father’s wealth and position
would avail her little here. If he had been
concerned, he would not have dared to kid-
nap her in the first place.

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Night fell, leaving the room pitch black. She
listened for a while, wondering if he would
come back to her, and as she lay straining to
hear sounds of his approach she slipped into
a fitful sleep.

With dawn came Sarah, bearing more por-
ridge. Apparently, they meant to starve her
into submission, Lilith thought with renewed
anger. She ate what little she could stomach,
relieved herself, and lay still as Sarah bathed
her off once more.

She spent the entire day that way, gleaning
no new knowledge from Sarah, and little
sustenance. By nightfall, Lilith was certain
she would slip into madness.

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Chapter Three

Dominic spent the day nursing a horrendous
hangover, which thankfully prevented him
from thinking far beyond his own misery.
His face still hurt. Now, however, a bruise
covered half of his jaw and cheek. He per-
formed his lordly duties—which now con-
sisted of any tasks that could not be left un-
done regardless of the fact that there was no
one, but him, to do them—ignoring the spec-
ulative stares the bruise attracted from the

handful of men-at-arms that were all that re-
mained of the army he had once had and the
few servants that remained to run the castle.

Despite his discomfort over the incident, or
possibly because of it, he had prodded Sarah
into giving him a thorough report of his cap-
tive lady, what had transpired from the mo-
ment she had arrived until she had left, how
injured the lady appeared to her, how dis-
tressed, her expressions and what she had
said. He had learned that her name was Li-
lith Somerset which, if possible, had made
him feel a little more ill.

He knew that name well. Lord August
Somerset prospered where all others failed.
He was the richest man in these parts.

Dominic had not known the man had a
daughter. He was certain, though, that if
Dentin’s men recognized him, he would soon

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have an army bearing down on his castle, for
she was an even greater prize that he had
previously considered.

And he had not the man-power or the larder
to withstand a siege for more than a day.

Sighing, he rubbed his tired eyes. He
couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten
meat or seen his larder full. For nigh on two
years his lands—which had once produced a
bounty of fruit and grain, cattle and
game—had been dying.

He’d been forced to release most of his men,
for he had no money to pay them. The people
had given up tilling the land. The seeds
would not grow. The trees withered, bearing
no fruit or nuts. The grasses died without
rains to sustain them, and the cattle starved,
forcing them to kill the beasts to preserve
what little meat they could. Much of the

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forest, brittle with drought, had burned this
year past, killing off what little game re-
mained or forcing them from his lands to
find food to keep from starving themselves.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d
seen a bird in the sky. He’d had to release his
prized griffins so that they, too, wouldn’t
starve. They served him now only when he
called them—with great difficulty.

Dominic couldn’t understand why his lands
had suddenly seemed to turn against him
and his people. He had worked the fields
with them, traveled far and wide with his
men to search for game to bring back, until
he’d reached the ends of his land and could
find no more meat.

He had thought at first that perhaps the
fields had been sucked dry of nourishment.
They’d cleared new land, hoping for renewal,

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but nothing worked. Hardy seed from the
North, able to flourish in the most desolate
of lands was brought in and planted, and still
they had nothing.

He’d used what coin he had left to buy wheat
and dried meat, and in desperation, begun
visiting the witch, Usha.

Many wanted to burn her, fearing she was
the cause of this hex. He did not believe it,
but he’d hoped she could help him.

That was when she had told him of the wo-
man. The woman who would travel to
Dentin’s land by carriage, a guard of sixteen
riders flanking the front and rear. A heavy
mist would shroud them, leaving them vul-
nerable to attack.

The woman was blessed.

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“Plant your seed in her belly. As it grows, so
too shall your lands awaken,” the old wo-
man had said.

“Why do you help me? Why should I trust
you?” he had asked suspiciously.

“For my own sake as well as yours. I am too
old to flee. I die with your people. You must
do this to save us all.”

Dominic had had no choice but to trust her.
Something in that hut had strengthened his
resolve, given him purpose, something tan-
gible to fight for. He could almost feel the
magic exuded by the woman.

In theory, it had seemed simple enough.
Find the woman, plant his seed, and fertility
and prosperity would return to his lands.
The hungry would be fed. The needy would
no longer do without.

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He’d long since ceased to think in terms of
luxury. Eating anything at all was more a
luxury than any of them had had in longer
than he could remember. Porridge was all
that kept body and soul together and that
was rapidly disappearing no matter how few
the mouths left to feed or how carefully they
doled it out.

A vague ‘plant his seed’ was a far cry from ty-
ing a woman down and plowing her rows,
however. She was not a nameless, faceless,
unresisting lump of flesh that he could
simply pump his seed into and forget the
moment he was done.

Shaking off the dismay those thoughts en-
gendered, he focused on his current di-
lemma. Regardless of his personal feelings
on the matter, he was committed now. He
had to ensure that he had planted his seed in

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Lilith Somerset by the next moon or they
would be even worse off than before he had
decided to take the old woman’s advice.

He would have to bed her again, he realized
unhappily, but he was not looking forward to
it. The pain and anger in her eyes sliced him
to the bone.

It occurred to him presently that, should she
become pregnant, she could not remain
bound to the bed. He’d thought little beyond
capturing her. Truth be told, he’d not
thought he would live long enough to actu-
ally capture her and bring her back to his
castle. That he had succeeded at all when he
was so badly outnumbered astounded him.

He wasn’t certain if the direness of his situ-
ation had rendered him witless, or if he had
simply not fully examined the situation be-
cause he was so certain it would fail, but

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there was no getting around the fact that he
had not planned at all beyond capturing Li-
lith and the vague half formed idea of plant-
ing his seed in her.

Was it at all possible, he wondered, that he
could have more thoroughly mucked things
up?

He would have to seduce Lilith, he realized.
Somehow, he would have to find a way to
cover his blunder and entice her to stay and
not fight him. If she became pregnant—when
she became pregnant, he couldn’t risk her
hurting the child.

His gut clenched painfully on that thought.

He spent the day pondering his plan of se-
duction, choking down the stomach churning
porridge when he could ignore his need for
food no longer.

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Finally, he decided that his only hope, and
that a dim one, was to try to woo her. His
first move would be to pleasure her, and he
knew exactly what he must do.

* * * *

The scent of roses and lavender pierced the
fog of her slumber, tickling her nostrils. Her
skin tingled as he parted her legs and
smoothed his hands up her thighs.

Lilith bolted awake, her eyes flying open. She
could see nothing in the dark, but she knew
who was with her… him, Lord Rainier. She
sensed more than saw him beside the bed.

She tried to jerk her legs shut, but he per-
sisted, keeping them open, massaging that
accursed oil into her skin until the frantic
pulse of her body drowned out the protest of

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her mind. Tingles spread through her
muscles, making her skin heat to the point of
combustion. Pleasure sluiced her body,
gathered in her cleft with a tickle of
moisture.

She moaned as his hands slipped easily along
her skin. He stood and the bed dipped as he
crawled upon it. He settled between her
thighs. She could feel the heat of his body
searing her thighs as he worked higher,
kneading the sensitive flesh.

She sucked in a harsh breath, her nether lips
quivering, muscles clenching as he brushed
his fingers down her cleft.

She felt drugged—not herself, her blood boil-
ing with forbidden longing. She couldn’t con-
centrate on fighting, only on the feel of his
fingers parting her lips, the heat of his breath
fanning her moist center.

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She wiggled beneath him, tilting her hips,
trying to find something intangible to her
mind’s grasp.

Something wet and hot scooped a path
through her cleft, flicking lightly across her
clit. Her hips jerked at the contact. She cried
out, tensing all over.

He groaned, pressing her thighs wide apart
as he pressed his face into her slit, his nose
digging against her mound. He closed his
lips over her clit, sucking.

An instant sweat beaded her skin, barely
cooling her overheated flesh. She gasped,
whimpering, pushing her hips against his
mouth, clenching and unclenching her
hands.

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He skimmed the edge of her vagina with his
thumbs, kneading the crease of her thighs
with his fingers. He pushed her further, for-
cing her legs to part wide to allow him the
access he needed to taste her. Small, tight
whimpers escaped her throat.

He slid away from her clit, down her cleft,
plunging his tongue into her tight vagina.
Her womb contracted on a hard spasm. She
shuddered violently, her blood sizzling, her
nerves vibrating with sensation.

His fingers toyed with her clit, his tongue
curled inside her. He lapped her cream, de-
vouring her, nibbling her lips, tasting every
hidden crevice of her sex. She would have
screamed if she had had the breath. Her
lungs heaved, body shaking, but she could do
nothing but gasp and moan.

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She could hear wet, erotic sounds and his
groans, as if he tasted ambrosia and couldn’t
drink enough. He drank her cream, moving
his mouth to her clit once more, dragging the
pleasure from her conflicted body.

Her womb tightened, pushed beyond the
edge as he thrust his fingers inside her. Ec-
stasy erupted through her nerves. Her
muscles convulsed. Her strangled moans
filled the air.

He lifted his head, moving only to settle
between her thighs. The wave of pleasure in-
terrupted only as he pressed his cock head to
her entrance. She groaned, wanting to
struggle, but she needed this. Instinctively
her body craved the tight stretch of him
filling her.

He worked past the fragile opening, slowing
pushing

inside

her

grasping

muscles,

63/189

working her cream deep inside. Arching his
hips, he forged forward, inside her quaking
sex. She cried out, bucking against him, his
groans exciting her.

She tightened on him instinctively, her core
shuddering with burning, shocking pleasure.

He settled inside her, holding still, as if fight-
ing for control. She couldn’t contain herself,
couldn’t control the aching need that welled
inside her once more.

His breath came harsh and ragged. He with-
drew and plunged inside once more, past the
desperate grip of her muscles, stroking in
and out.

She was panting now, reaching for that bliss
again, desperate for it as he slid in her chan-
nel and out, his cock jerking with his efforts
to hold his release in check. He buried his

64/189

face against her neck, kissing her jaw, suck-
ing at the corner.

Her clit throbbed. Her heartbeat pulsed
there, swelling the bud, heightening sensa-
tion, driving her mad with the need to or-
gasm. She jerked against him, arching her
back, as if she could drive him deeper.

“Please,” she begged, unable to help herself.

“Dominic,” he said, with a groan.

“Please,

Dominic,”

she

murmured,

whimpering.

He groaned at her ear, hesitated for a breath-
less moment of time and then he began
pumping harder, faster. Vibrations of need
grew, intensified, sizzling through her
nerves. Pleasure blossomed with his rough
strokes. Her orgasm came on her suddenly,

65/189

locking down her muscles. She clamped hard
on him, sexual muscles pulling, clutching.

His cock jerked. Warmth bloomed in her
depths, washing her with his seed.

She took no note of it, riding the rippling
swells of rapture that washed through her
clit and core. Moans caught in her throat.
She gasped as he collapsed on top of her, his
weight somehow comforting.

She was barely conscious when he caressed
her cheek and placed a kiss on her parted
lips. After a few moments, he slipped from
her body and then from the bed. Adjusting
his clothing, he left her to her slumber.

* * * *

A sense of well being curled around Lilith,
making her reluctant to rouse from the thin

66/189

haze of sleep that still cocooned her. Images
flitted through her mind, pleasurable images,
remembered sensations that began to plague
her almost as much as they pleased her. Fin-
ally, with great reluctance she opened her
eyes and stared up at the ceiling.

Reality descended with a vengeance. She
hadn’t dreamed a delightful dream. The un-
comfortable stickiness between her thighs
was evidence enough of that.

He’d been with her. Like the thief he was, he
had stolen into her chamber when she was
asleep and vulnerable. He had compounded
his perfidy by massaging the magical oils in-
to her flesh, stealing her will to resist his
touch, depriving her of the comfort of know-
ing she had rejected him.

How dare he make her enjoy it! She thought
in dawning outrage. She could live with the

67/189

pain—that at least built her resistance to
him, made her stronger, but the pleasure?

It made it seem she was willingly allowing
herself to be despoiled, ruined. It took her
comfort of knowing herself. It made her feel
lost, like a stranger.

She was horrified by her body’s reaction. It
gave her no comfort at all to dismiss it as ba-
sic animal lust because she could not remove
herself from that taint. Her mind, her discip-
line, her upbringing as a lady had been com-
pletely compromised and she would never be
able to think of herself in the way that she
once had even if she could somehow escape
the world’s censure.

Damn him to hell, she thought furiously. She
was not going to simply yield to a meager
helping of pretty persuasion after all that he
had done to her!

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She would have him groveling for her favors
before she was done with him, and then she
would glory in watching as her father tor-
tured him endlessly before he gave the villain
the death he justly deserved!

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Chapter Four

Dominic felt confident that he’d made great
strides with Lilith the night before. A great
weight seemed to have been lifted from his
shoulders. He had pleasured her. Despite
everything that had gone so horribly wrong,
he had redeemed himself—or at least made
great strides in that direction. It aroused him
all over again just remembering the soft
moans of pleasure he had coaxed from her,

remembering the way her body had respon-
ded so passionately to his caresses.

She could not despise him as he’d feared,
otherwise she would not have been so re-
sponsive to his touch.

Feeling more lighthearted than he had felt in
longer than he could remember, he decided
to venture to Arnon for some much needed
supplies.

Stretching, he rose and moved to the worn
chest that sat at the foot of his bed, digging
around to the bottom of his chest until he
found the small, intricately carved wooden
jewelry box that had once been his mother’s.
Seating himself on his bed once more, he
opened it slowly while his mind rapidly tal-
lied the things that they needed in order of
most desperate to least.

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He simply stared at the contents once he’d
opened the box, however, dismayed to see
how little remained of his mother’s things:
the emerald drop earrings his father had giv-
en her on her last birthday; the ruby betroth-
al ring given by generations of Rainier men
to their brides; three gold hair pins and one
silver; a choker pricked with droplets of pink
crystal; tiny silver embroidery scissors in the
shape of a crane.

The majority couldn’t fetch more that a few
bags of seed, perhaps some wheat. The senti-
mental value far exceeded their actual worth.
Most of her expensive jewelry had been
traded off to keep food on the table and to
pay his men. He hadn’t been able to bring
himself to sell the remainder of it, but now
he had hope that matters would improve.
There would be no harvest without seed. He
had to part with something, however

72/189

reluctant he was to give up the last of his
mother’s belongings.

He touched the emeralds. They would make
a good gift for her. Perhaps later.

He considered the scissors, but thought of
Lilith, trapped in that room with nothing to
alleviate her boredom. If he was to keep her
from planning escape, he had to occupy her
mind with something. Perhaps she would be-
gin to favor him if he lavished her with
entertainment?

He frowned after a moment, realizing that at
the rate he was going he would give up noth-
ing at all. Reluctantly, he grabbed the pins
and pocketed them as well as the scissors,
and stuffed the box back into the bottom of
the chest. Turning to his bookshelves, he
studied his prized books for several moments
and finally pulled down all but one of his

73/189

books. He used his hip to open the door and
summoned a man-at-arms to carry the load.

The man accepted them, giving him a quiz-
zical look.

“Take these to the lady upstairs. You are to
unbind her arms and legs and allow her free
reign of the room. I warn you, she has a foul
temper. Someone should remain in the room
with her at all times, unless I give you orders
otherwise. Another guard shall be posted
outside in case she overpowers you,” Domin-
ic said. At the man’s near smile, he added,
“Do not underestimate her. And send
someone to capture Kee and saddle him. I
will be going into town.”

“Aye, my lord,” the man said, leaving to per-
form his duty.

74/189

Dominic went downstairs and found Sarah
preparing a tray to take to Lilith. He pulled
out the scissors.

“My lord,” she said with a curtsy.

“Sarah, I found these scissors. Give them to
Lady Somerset. She shouldn’t be able to do
any harm--or much—with a tip this small.
You’re to find thread and fabric, so that she
can embroider if she so chooses. If she does
not wish it, bring the scissors back to my
room and leave them on my bedside table.”

Sarah took the scissors and curtsied again,
hiding a shy smile. “Yes, my lord.”

The smile puzzled him until he realized she
was pleased that he had thought of trying to
placate Lilith. That irritated him, but he dis-
missed it almost at once. She had nearly as

75/189

much to lose as he if he failed, for it fell to
her to attend his lady.

Shrugging it off, he left her, going out to the
courtyard where his griffin, Kee, rested,
saddled and waiting. Dominic felt immeasur-
ably better as he guided Kee into the air and
headed toward Arnon.

He shouldn’t be using the griffin, he knew,
not so soon after the lady’s abduction, but
traveling by horse wasn’t feasible. He had
made a little headway with her the night be-
fore. He couldn’t afford to allow too much
time to pass before he saw Lilith again. The
progress he’d made would slip away with
each hour’s absence, and he was determined,
now that he had managed a better under-
standing between them and had begun to re-
cover his blunder he would not allow the op-
portunity to be lost.

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She was his woman. She would bear his chil-
dren. Bringing prosperity to his lands was
critical, but he could not afford to ignore the
long range for the immediate needs.

She was lovely. He would make the best of
this and find contentment.

Hours passed, with the beast never tiring
from his flight. At last the brine of sea water
scented the air, signaling their approach to
the city. Rather than risk giving himself
away, he landed in the thick forest outside of
town, opting to travel the remaining distance
by foot, leaving Kee free to roam the wood
for game.

Shouldering his pack, Dominic crossed the
mile or so to the port village in little time.

The wind coming off the rollicking ocean was
chill and scented with salt, invigorating him

77/189

further until something he tentatively identi-
fied as happiness began to uncoil inside him,
warming him. He’d always enjoyed the sea
air. It had been many months since he’d left
his lands for any reason. He vowed to make a
day of it, since he had many supplies to gath-
er … and he needed to find out if anyone was
looking for the abductor of Lady Somerset.
His first stop was to the general store, where
he traded a pin for three different kinds of
seed—cabbage, onion, and potato, two fifty
pound bags of wheat flour, and a wheelbar-
row to cart them to his mount.

He paused at the counter, eyeing a display of
hair ribbons and brushes. Almost immedi-
ately the image filled his mind of presenting
them to Lilith and seeing a smile upon her
full lips.

It was risky, and he could ill afford it, but in
the end he yielded to the impulse, choosing a

78/189

brush, and then added a few ribbons to his
order.

Finished, and torn between anxiety about the
amount of money spent and anticipation of
Lilith’s reaction to his modest offering, he
left the burley owner to gather whatever else
he could from the town since the store had
little beyond farming supplies.

Across the street he saw the butcher’s. Meat.
His stomach rumbled just thinking about it.

He crossed the street and went inside
without hesitation.

The butcher greeted him with a broad smile,
wiping his hands off on his leather apron.
“Good day to you, Sir.”

Dominic nodded. “Good day. What have you
today?”

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“Mutton. I also butchered a sow this morn-
ing and have fresh chicken if you’ve a
hankering for poultry.”

“I’ll take a leg of mutton and a pork
rump—and a hen.”

“Very good, Sir. When will you be wantin’
this?”

“I’ll pick it up before I leave town, say in
about two hours.”

Dominic paid him with another pin and left.
His money was fast dwindling, but he’d got-
ten everything he needed for now. On the
way to the tavern, the Drunken Bull, he spot-
ted a fabric shop and decided to have a look
inside before he had something to eat since it
had occurred to him that his lady was
without anything at all that she needed.

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The proprietor had a myriad of fabrics and
colors. Lilith had only the one dress. She
would need something practical to change in
to, and perhaps something more elaborate. A
new dress would please her. He had no no-
tion of what she’d been forced to leave be-
hind, and he felt like kicking himself for not
thinking of bringing some of her belongings.
She’d so riled him though, he’d thought of
little else beyond capturing her and bringing
her to his castle.

He had one gold pin left and one silver.
Surely it would cover the purchase of some
cloth?

“Can I help you, Sir?” a woman asked, walk-
ing up to him.

“I’m looking to buy some cloth.” He held out
the gold pin. “What will this cover?”

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She took it and tested the gold with her
teeth, nodding her approval. “Enough for a
fine new suit for you. Perhaps a capelet.”

“It’s not for me. It’s for my … uh … sister.”

“Ah.” She smiled. “A gown then. Do you
know what style she prefers? A train per-
haps? Long sleeves? Something for the
winter or the fall?”

He had no idea. “Something for now. She is
tall. About this high ….” He held his hand
level at his eyes. “Her form is….” He couldn’t
think of a way to describe her fine features.
He measured out the width of her waist and
hips, her breasts as if tracing her shape in
the air.

The woman nodded. “And the cloth?”

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He selected a velvet the color of crushed viol-
ets. Imagining her in the gown made his
loins tighten uncomfortably. She would be
pleased with the color. He looked forward to
seeing her smile when he presented it to her.
Sarah could help her with the dress. “This
one,” he said, pointing to the bolt.

“An excellent choice. A very fine cloth, and
I’m afraid very expensive. Will one gown
do?”

It would have to. He saw no other color that
stirred his imagination the way this one did
and he could not afford more in any case.
Perhaps after the crops were planted he
would return and find something else for
her, he decided, trying to ignore the uncom-
fortable shock it gave him to discover his pin
would purchase so little, resolutely pushing
from his mind the bags of seed and food the
pin might have brought in its stead.

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The dizziness and lightheadedness, he de-
cided when he’d left the shop, were most
likely from hunger. Food would banish the
unpleasant side effects of spending more
than he could afford.

He felt better once he had settled in a corner
and ordered food, gazing at the bounty his
coin had brought and trying to figure out just
how far it would go. If the seeds sprouted as
Usha had foreseen, then they must still wait
weeks before the crop would begin to ripen.
If they were careful, the food he had bought
would hold them for at least part of that
time. He would have to part with something
else, he realized unhappily, to make it until
they could begin to harvest the bounty of his
fields.

He must work more assiduously on getting a
child on Lilith, he decided, feeling warmth

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surge inside him at the thought now instead
of the vague illness that had filled him be-
fore. Only when she was with child would the
seeds sprout, and the sooner the better.

His ale and food arrived and his stomach dis-
tracted him from his thoughts. With a good
deal of pleasure, he took a draught of his ale
and tucked into the hot stew. It tasted like
the food of the gods after all the mush he’d
had to force down for so long, but he had
scarcely begun to enjoy it when he finally be-
came aware of the name threading the con-
versations around him.

Swallowing with an effort, he focused at last
on the talk his wandering mind had filtered
from his brain.

August Somerset was looking for his
daughter.

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Despite the fact that he had fully expected to
hear something of that nature, and had gone
to the tavern for just that reason, Dominic
felt his gut clench.

Somerset was in a towering rage that anyone
would dare to touch his daughter. Threats
had alternated with offers of reward for any-
one with information.

A cold sweat beaded Dominic’s brow.

As thoroughly despised as August Somerset
was because he, of all who lived in the shire,
prospered while everyone else was starving,
their poverty was as much his enemy as
Somerset himself.

Surreptitiously—painfully, acutely conscious
of the purchases he’d made for Lilith,
Dominic leaned over as casually as he could
and tucked the packages deeper into the

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barrow of goods. The remainder of his stew
might have been dirt for all he noticed or en-
joyed it. It took all he could do to sit still long
enough to finish it off, but he knew leaving
abruptly would be noticed. Leaving food on
his plate in such hard times would be tan-
tamount to announcing his guilt.

When he’d choked down the last of it and
drained his ale, he paid with his only remain-
ing pin, gathered his purchases and left the
tavern, acutely conscious of the speculative
glances cast at his barrow as he departed.

It took him far longer to return to Kee than
he’d anticipated. He knew better than to
head directly toward the griffin. It wasn’t un-
til he had assured himself that no one was
following that he doubled back and found
the griffin once more, and still he thought it
far safer to wait for dark before he mounted
the griffin for his return journey.

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If Somerset even suspected Dominic was the
one who had taken his daughter, he might
just as well cut his own throat and be done
with it, for he hadn’t a chance in hell of hold-
ing off a well manned, well equipped army
with the handful of men-at-arms that still
resided at Castle Rainier.

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Chapter Five

Lilith had spent a very long day struggling
with her emotions. Rage was still uppermost
and hard to conquer, but she had swallowed
her spleen with an effort and taken the offer-
ing of books and embroidery to relieve the
tedium of her imprisonment.

Sarah’s company had helped.

The guard’s presence had not, particularly
since she was well aware that one was sta-
tioned outside the door as well as the one
within.

It was almost as humiliating that Lord Raini-
er feared she would overpower the one and
escape as being bound to the bed had been.
She was well aware that she was a tall wo-
man. She didn’t need it rubbed in her face
that she was no delicate flower, and worse,
that he felt the need for two strong men to
guard her.

She resented the slight to her femininity
even if she had considered trying to over-
power the man until she’d realized there was
another stationed outside her door.

The presentation of the horrid porridge was
another thing she’d resented. She hadn’t
been mollified in the least to discover that

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the maid and the guard had had the same
and had wolfed theirs down as if they were
glad to get it.

She wondered at it, though.

She might have thought it was merely for
show except that neither Sarah nor the guard
had seemed the least surprised or put out.

It began to seem inescapable that poverty
was the rule at Rainier castle, not the excep-
tion for her—which she’d thought was a form
of torture designed to make her as miserable
as possible.

The room and food weren’t the only indica-
tions that Rainier had fallen on hard times.
The guard looked almost as emaciated as the
maid, and his uniform was nearly as
threadbare.

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Not that that was an excuse for the man as
far as she was concerned. If he was in such
desperate straits it could only be his own
fault for squandering his livelihood and it
was outrageous for him to steal her to recoup
his fortune from her father’s coffers.

It occurred to her after awhile, however, that
she could do nothing about her captivity. He
would settle it with her father all in good
time.

In the meanwhile, it seemed inevitable that
she would have to endure his groping and
rutting. She could think of no way she could
avoid it. He could and would bind her to
have his way if she tried to fight him.

The only way she could avoid that discomfort
and humiliation was to give the appearance
of cooperation. She might even actually

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manage to lull him into a false sense of se-
curity that would open an opportunity for
escape.

Or she could simply wait and endure until
her father came after her.

She didn’t think she could stomach it.

She didn’t think she could even manage to
behave as if she was resigned to her fate.
Even now the need to tear his hide from him
burned in her.

As the day wore on her nerves tautened.
Back and forth, she wavered between trying
to convince herself that she could and would
pretend to accept, and that she couldn’t
manage it to save her life.

She had to fight the urge to weep like a child
when the maid helped her ready herself for

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bed, supplying her with a gown that was so
wretchedly worn that it was virtually
transparent.

The pig might at least have brought her be-
longings, she railed silently even as she
forced a thank you to her lips and bid Sarah
good evening.

The guard seemed reluctant to depart. It
made Lilith uneasy until it finally dawned on
her that he had not been given instructions
about binding her again and wasn’t certain
what to do.

“I can’t fit through so tiny a window,” she
pointed out. “And I’ve no desire to break my
neck in any case. Surely even you can see
that two guards outside the door ought to se-
cure the prisoner well enough?”

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He reddened and backed uncomfortably to-
ward the door, closing it firmly behind him
and, at last, left her alone with her fears.

* * * *

Lilith still had not made up her mind wheth-
er she would simply lie passively the next
time Lord Rainier came to her or if she
would fight him tooth and nail when she be-
came aware that she was no longer alone in
the room. She tensed instantly.

He stood hesitantly beside the bed for a few
moments and finally knelt beside it, pulling
her gown up to massage the magical oils into
her skin again.

She was lost the moment he touched her, her
decision made for her by her body. Still, she
tried to resist, tried to close her mind to the
warmth that began to grow inside her at the

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first touch of his hands on her thighs. He
pushed her gown up, baring her belly, her
breasts, pulling it up over her head and arms
until she was naked beneath him.

Shivers coursed over her skin, making her
prickle with goose bumps.

She scrambled back on the bed, half sitting
up against the headboard, the pillows a
tangle behind and around her back. He
trapped her there, caging her with his body,
hands at her ribcage.

She gasped as his mouth found the sensitive
lobe of her ear, nipping it with his teeth
while rubbing his thumbs in maddening half
circles beneath her breasts. She couldn’t con-
centrate with so much going on, with his
mouth running feverishly hot on her sensit-
ive neck.

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“Oh.” It escaped her as a sigh. His breath was
warm on her ear, sending tingling goose
bumps to race over her. He captured her lobe
with his mouth, sucking gently on it. Lilith
couldn’t seem to gather the energy to fight
him … or the willpower, even though she
knew she should. She felt helpless against
the demands of her body, this insatiable
need for pleasure and fulfillment.

He didn’t kiss her lips, instead trailing nib-
bling bites from her ear along the line of her
jaw, pushing her down into the bed. She
arched her back, pressing her achy, swollen
breasts against his chest. Her nipples
hardened unbearably.

His hands found her breasts, and he groaned
against her jaw as he handled their abund-
ance, stroking the underside and massaging
them gently. Lilith felt a wave of shivers race

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over her, settling achingly at the apex of her
thighs.

He rolled her nipples between his fingers,
making them feel tighter. He trailed hot, wet
kisses down her throat to her breasts. Her
breasts, if possible, seemed fuller, achier
from the slight touch … the proximity of his
mouth. She knew she wanted him there …
wanted his mouth suckling her, as he’d
sucked her clit before.

Her nipples puckered under his warm
breath, stoking a fire within her. Her sex
drenched with arousal, cramping almost
painfully. He traced a finger around one
breast, running his thumb over the bud. She
arched unconsciously toward him, flushing
with heat and desire. Excitement, hot and
filled with anticipation, surged through her.
Her sex clenched with it, growing wet with
the need to be filled.

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She nearly screamed when his mouth closed
over one taut nipple. Her cleft spasmed with
pleasure. Her belly jerked with longing, mak-
ing her breathing labored, her head feel light.
She felt drunk, dizzy with lust. She tightened
her thighs around his hips, wanting relief,
but he seemed determined to prolong her
torment. He had more control than her, but
still, he seemed almost desperate, ravenous
as he sucked first one nipple and then the
other. Pleasure arrowed down her body,
piercing her core.

She whimpered when he moved away. He
licked a path down her belly as if savoring
her skin, dipped his tongue in her navel,
moved lower.

With calloused fingers, he traced a searing
trail from her navel to her mound, following
behind with his mouth until he had her

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gasping in anticipation. Her breath came in
hard gusts with the intimate touch. He fol-
lowed the crease of her thighs across her hips
and then traveled an imaginary line down
her bared legs, and up again, his face inches
from the curls between her thighs. His hot
breath fanned her naked lips, making her
shiver.

He gripped her thighs, causing a hard shud-
der to ripple through her clenched cleft. Her
clit throbbed, her pulse hammering as he
forced her thighs to open further for him and
held her still when all she wanted to do was
writhe and arch her hips upward … to grind
her mound against his face.

She wanted him—at least for this … to satisfy
the demands of her body. She couldn’t deny
the wetness saturating her folds, cooling in
the air as he spread her and dipped his head
and slid his tongue through her slit. He

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groaned, and her womb contracted with
arousal. He pushed her down, tongue
plunging into her clenching vagina, fingers
near to bruising her. She shuddered, bucking
against his hold, pleasure vibrating along her
nerves.

She couldn’t find her voice to scream, could
only gasp air into her labored lungs. The
strength bled from her muscles, leaving her
weak. Her sex felt swollen as he lapped her,
sucking the cream from her body even as he
drew out torturous pleasures. Her clit
throbbed with a heart beat of its own, en-
gorged to the point of pain. The flick of his
tongue seemed unbearably rough, yet not
enough to make her climax.

He pushed her to the brink of ecstasy only to
pull back, to nibble her pouty lips, her
mound, upward to her abdomen. She cried
out in frustration, pushing at him, pulling--

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anything to speed his movements in one dir-
ection or another. He heeded her not. He
nibbled and licked her ribcage, the curves of
her breasts, snatched a taste of her nipples
before he lay fully on top of her once more.

The heat of his body on hers made her swel-
ter with need. The abrasion of his hair
covered chest and thighs seemed so right,
rubbing against her, heightening her lust.
She locked her arms around his back, touch-
ing the flexing muscles. Her fingers prickled
with sensation, greedily touching him. He
pushed his cock against her mound, shifting
his hips until it the hard bluntness rasped
her slit. A gasp escaped her at the welcome
invasion and she closed her eyes, but the
feeling only intensified.

He ground his hips into her softness, but it
wasn’t painful, it felt … good … so good and

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right. He bit her neck, sucking hard in the
hollow behind her ear.

He rocked his hips, gliding his erection
across her center, spreading her wetness
back and forth, back and forth, until she
thought she would go mad if he didn’t push
inside her. Small, tight whimpers escaped
her, making her throat ache from holding
back her cries.

She wrapped her legs around him, pulling
him to her. The broad head of his cock
nudged her opening. With a groan, his slide
became a push that stretched her tight hole.
He was so big, so thick, stretching her more
than she thought possible.

He tensed, going rigid all over, moving
slowly, controlled. She didn’t want that. She
needed—craved—passion, wildness, for him

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to ravish her, rend her body, make her or-
gasm again and again.

She moved beneath him, urging him with
frustrated whimpers, impatient hands.

He could not battle his body and her. With a
muttered oath, he sank into her, pushing her
to the limits, impaling her completely with
his hard length. Lilith bit back the cry burn-
ing in her throat. She tightened reflexively,
clutching him with her muscles, digging her
nails into his back.

He grunted, going still within her, imprinting
the feel of his muscles on her body, his scent
on her skin.

“You feel so good,” he said, his voice tight
and guttural.

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Lilith could feel the repressed passion,
lingering beneath his surface. She’d coaxed it
out and wanted more. She bucked against
him, unable to express herself in words. She
couldn’t bring herself to beg with her voice.

“Sweet gods above,” he gritted out. “Be still.”

“I cannot,” she said on a gasp, rubbing her
legs up and down his, smoothing her hands
to his buttocks until she could clutch each
tight, round cheek to urge his movement. He
groaned as she caressed him, flexed inside
her.

He panted at her neck, withdrawing just a
little before plunging inside once more. The
movement started a wave that spread over
her, again and again with each thrust, gain-
ing momentum even as he did. Her skin was
afire. Fire ran like a current through her
blood, her mind, until she knew nothing but

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him and the sensations he was creating with-
in her body.

The flared head of his cock parted her tender
tissue, making her insides quake. She
shuddered violently, clutching his buttocks
until he was forced to drive into her, hard
and fast, his strokes short and controlled.

She gripped him harder, tightened her legs
on him, but it wasn’t enough—he couldn’t
move like he needed to. She flung her arms
away, allowing him free reign to do with her
as he willed.

“Mmm. You’re so sweet,” he growled before
tasting her neck again.

He pulled his chest up from hers, levering
himself slightly above. He thrust his hand to
where their bodies were joined, touching a
finger to her swollen, needy clit. Pleasure

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erupted along her nerves. She jumped at the
pure, intense shock of sensation, moaning as
he thrust even deeper into her while rubbing
her clit in a rough circle.

She tossed her head from side to side, unable
to control her moans, clutching the bedcov-
ers with shaking hands.

She could not take much more of this. She
pulled him with her legs, demanding more of
him, and he fell against her, grinding his hips
into hers with maddening ferocity. Lust
shouldn’t be so good. He shouldn’t make her
want ecstasy so badly.

His cock stroked the walls of her vagina until
pleasure saturated every nerve ending. She
cried out, tensing. Her core convulsed in
shocks of rapturous release, shuddering as
each new wave of bliss crested upon another.
She tingled every where, her skin feeling

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sizzled by strokes of lightning. She wrapped
her arms around him, bringing him closer,
until her breasts were molded achingly
against his muscled chest.

His erection jerked within her, his own or-
gasm peaking from the quaking pull of her
muscles. He spewed his seed deep into her
womb.

He pressed his face to her neck, catching her
ear with his lips and teasing it with his sear-
ing tongue. Then he murmured incoherently
into her ear even as he thrust one final,
shuddering time into her. He collapsed atop
her as if sapped of all his strength, blowing
his ragged, warm breath against her hyper-
sensitive skin and causing goose bumps
anew.

Lilith was sapped of energy, as if her orgasm
had leeched it all out of her. She couldn’t

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move her languid limbs from their hold of
him. She should’ve wanted to push him off
her until he fell to the floor, but she couldn’t
rouse herself to action.

She lay there, willing her brain to return to
normal, for her body to move, to do
something—anything.

As if sensing her inner struggle, he rolled
from his position. She gasped as he withdrew
his length from her, leaving her feeling
empty inside.

He stood beside the bed, looking at her. Even
though in the dark she couldn’t see him—she
knew he stared. He touched her cheek, draw-
ing his fingers along her jaw line. She
couldn’t summon the energy to push him
away. Her lack of willpower disturbed her,
but she didn’t wonder on it long. She was

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weary beyond words, achy from his lovemak-
ing, and still, she craved more.

Without a word, he left her as she drifted in-
to slumber.

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Chapter Six

Lilith was busy at her embroidery when Lord
Rainier arrived mid day. She glanced at the
man who entered her tiny prison with a mix-
ture of uneasiness and polite curiosity when
the door opened and he stepped inside.

He was dressed far more finely that anyone
she had seen in the entire time that she had
been at the dreaded Castle Rainier—only

four miserable days, she could scarcely credit
it!—reason enough to catch her interest.

A sense of familiarity teased at her, though,
and, her attention fairly caught, she studied
him frankly for several moments, noticing
first that he was exceeding tall. The top of his
head had very nearly grazed the doorframe
as he’d entered. There was a ranginess about
him that seemed out of keeping. His frame
was large, and he was massively built, and
still there was a noticeable looseness in the
fit of his clothing as if he had borrowed his
finery, or had perhaps been ill and had
dropped a good deal weight.

His hair was overlong for fashion, still wet
from a recent washing and hanging in damp
locks around his shoulders. Light glinted off
golden strands here and there, however,
making it apparent that his hair was very
pale when completely dry.

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His countenance was remarkable more for
the regularity of his harsh, angular features
than from any great beauty, and yet, as a
whole, he was handsome enough, she didn’t
doubt, to turn many a maiden’s head.

She knew it was impolite to stare, and cer-
tainly unmaidenly to allow her gaze to
wander below his shoulders, and yet she
couldn’t seem to prevent herself from ex-
amining him very thoroughly from head to
toe.

Her belly clenched when her gaze reached
his hands.

And the cod piece.

Abruptly, her gaze flew upward again. As the
realization slowly sank into her that this was
the man who had sneaked into her room

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every night and ravished her, the man she
had not once seen clearly in the light of day,
she felt the blood leave her face only to rush
back with a vengeance.

Her eyes narrowed.

His smile faltered. “Lady Somerset,” he said,
bowing deeply. “I would be honored if you
would join me in the hall to sup.”

She studied him suspiciously, wondering if
he was amusing himself at her expense. “And
you are?” she said somewhat coldly.

He reddened. “Lord Dominic Rainier,” he
said, struggling to keep his voice even and
pleasant although he was plainly not only
taken aback by the hostility in her manner,
but antagonized, as well. “I must … apologize
for your accommodations….”

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She batted her lashes at him, hiding her an-
ger with a strenuous effort. “You must not! I
am quite comfortable … now.”

Sarah glanced from Lady Somerset to Lord
Rainier in dismay. With obvious relief, she
leapt to her feet and fled when Lord Rainier
jerked his head toward the door. “Since you
seem to prefer your own company then,” he
said with determined patience, “I will leave
you to it.”

Consternation filled Lilith as he turned to-
ward door and she saw where her temper
had led her—to the unwisdom of provoking
him when she had told herself that she
would try to gain his trust—so that she could
betray it.

“Actually,” she said, jumping to her feet ab-
ruptly, “I am very tired of my own company.

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I would like to eat in the hall with everyone
else.”

He paused, eyeing her suspiciously, but he
offered his arm.

She took it, feeling her stomach jump at her
proximity to him.

She told herself it was revulsion.

She couldn’t imagine why it was, when that
was true, that warmth flooded her nether
regions.

Treacherous flesh to betray her so!

He was handsome—for a pig.

And surprisingly well mannered—for a clod.

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The smell of roasted mutton reached her
long before they reached the main hall. Her
stomach growled appreciatively.

His answered.

She tamped her embarrassment with a new
surge of anger—so much for thinking they
had nothing better than that horrible
porridge!

The first thing Lilith noticed after the smell
of food and before they reached the great
hall was that although she could hear the
babble of many animated voices such as she
was accustomed to hearing in the great hall
at meal times, the voices seemed to ring hol-
lowly. She discovered why once they had
entered the hall itself. Only three trestles had
been set up besides the high table, leaving
most of the room empty.

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Everyone fell silent when they noticed her
and Lord Rainier’s approach and then began
to talk once more with a good deal of effort.

Lilith frowned in puzzlement as Lord Rainier
helped her onto the bench and seated him-
self beside her. Almost at once, servants
began to scurry from the kitchen passage
bearing platters and trenchers—two platters.
The first bore the source of Lilith’s de-
sire—mutton, carved very cunningly into
waver thin slices. To her dismay, however,
only two slivers were deposited upon her
trencher before the maid moved on, very
carefully depositing two on Lord Rainier’s
and then vanishing to serve the lower tables.

The next platter contained equally thin slices
of something Lilith finally identified as
moldy cheese and bread nearly as stale as
that used to form the trenchers.

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A third servant followed with a pot—which
contained the inevitable, revolting, porridge.

Lord Rainier produced a knife and very care-
fully carved her meat into small pieces before
turning his attention to his own food. Lilith
stared down at her trencher feeling strangely
blank—shocked, she supposed. Finally, noti-
cing that everyone else had dug in with a
will, she fished a piece of meat out and ate it.
The meat was actually quite good. She
would’ve liked about twice what she got, but
she saw the servant bearing the platter out
even as she tasted her first bite.

No one, apparently, would be getting
seconds.

The bread, she discovered, was stale, but tol-
erable with the meat juices, far better than
the porridge certainly. Even the cheese was
better than she would’ve thought it would be,

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but then she supposed that had something to
do with the fact that she was starving—had
been for days, for it was all she could do even
to choke down a little of the porridge.

After casting around in her mind for some
time trying to come up with polite conversa-
tion, Lilith finally decided on an opening
gambit. “Are the rest of the men out
hunting?”

Everyone stopped eating. A few glanced in
her direction before pointedly turning their
attention to their food again. Lord Rainier
cleared his throat. “The game is hard to
find,” he muttered finally.

Taking that to mean the men were hunting
far a field, she frowned thoughtfully. She
wasn’t really interested, but she pursued the
subject since she could think of nothing else
to converse about. “Tis early yet in the

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season still—and I know very little about
hunting, but it seems to me that my father’s
hunters do not have a great deal of trouble
finding game this time of year.”

“The forest burned because of the drought,
driving the game away,” he muttered, then
glanced at her sharply. “Nearest the castle,”
he added, looking uncomfortable for some
reason she couldn’t fathom.

Seeing from his expression that it wasn’t a
subject he wanted to pursue, she abandoned
the topic and searched for something else to
draw her captor into conversation. Not that
she particularly wanted to talk, especially
with him, yet she was accustomed to polite
conversation at meals and she felt uncom-
fortable merely sitting like a stone stuffing
food into her mouth.

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Besides, she had eaten all she wished to eat,
if not all she wanted, and she had no desire
to be returned immediately to her cell.

It occurred to her after a very little thought
that a hunt alone could not explain the
dearth of company. It was almost … unnerv-
ing to see so few in a castle of this size—not
that it was a very great castle. Her father’s
was far bigger, but this castle was no tiny
holding either. To her mind, there should
have been at least thrice the number of men-
at-arms, if not more, and more servants, as
well, for she had seen only a handful of
servants.

The castle was painfully sparse, she thought,
glancing around once she had finished the
meat, cheese, and bread—she couldn’t bring
herself to spoil what had been the best meal
she had had in a fortnight by chasing it with
the porridge. The castle could have no

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chatelaine, she decided, could not have had
in a very long time, for there were none of
the things a lady of the house would have
thought essential for comfort. The walls were
bare of any tapestries, either for the sake of
beautification or to block the drafts that
whistled about the cavernous room. Here
and there, however, she saw lighter patches
on the walls and wondered if tapestries had
once hung there.

“There were tapestries,” she said, more to
herself than to Lord Rainier, who seemed fo-
cused upon her trencher now that he had
cleaned his own.

At her comment, he glanced around the hall.
“Aye. Once. You should eat. You need your
strength.”

Lilith’s head snapped in his direction as it
occurred to her to wonder what he was

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implying. Apparently, not what she had
thought, for she could see a red tinge creep
into his cheeks—that damning emotional ba-
rometer that folk of very fair skin had diffi-
culty controlling.

Several of the men at the nearest table
snickered, but attempted to disguise it as a
fit of coughing when Lord Rainier turned to
glare in their direction.

“I have never particularly cared for por-
ridge,” she responded coolly.

His lips flattened, but he did not pursue it.
“Perhaps you would like to take a turn in
the….” He broke off, frowning in thought,
trying to think where he might walk her that
she was least likely to see anything he pre-
ferred that she not see. “--garden before you
return to your—uh—stitchery?”

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Relief flooded Lilith. Freedom! It was not
much to be sure, but she was so sick of see-
ing only the walls of the cramped room, and
even walking with the monster who had
taken her was preferable to being confined
all day.

All the same, she was disconcerted once they
reached ‘the garden’. Stones had been laid
out into walkways in neat geometric lines,
but the beds that the walkways bisected were
filled with dead, rotting vegetation and noth-
ing more, although she searched diligently
for even a sign of greenery among the
blackened stalks. “It must have—been quite
beautiful at one time,” she managed.

Lord Rainier stared out over the garden, his
face carefully neutral. “My father had it built
for my mother. She was very fond of flowers.
I was young when she died, but I remember
that she would spend many hours here,

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directing the gardeners in the planting. The
drought—I should have it cleaned. I have not
been here in—a while.”

Lilith glanced at him. It was the first thing
that he had said that touched an answering
chord inside her. “My mother has also
passed on. I still miss her. What was your
mother like?”

He shrugged, tucking her arm in his and ur-
ging her to stroll along the walkways. “I don’t
remember her very well,” he said, his voice
carefully neutral. He seemed to cast his mind
back, however. “Beautiful,” he added after
several moments, smiling faintly at some
memory. “And very lively. I imagined that
she was like the butterflies when I was very
small, flitting from flower to flower. She was
always happiest when she was in the garden,
but I don’t truly remember her as being any-
thing else. She always seemed so full of

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energy, almost seeming to dance where ever
she went, and smiling.”

He had loved her very much, Lilith thought
with a jolt, struggling to reconcile the man
she thought of as a cold blooded monster
with the image he had placed in her mind.
She didn’t particularly welcome the insight.
It conflicted with the image she preferred, of
a villain without any redeeming qualities at
all.

She supposed it was as unrealistic to imagine
a villain had no virtues at all as to imagine a
hero had only virtue and no vice. It really
made no difference, though, that he was not
entirely a monster, and it was a stretch, she
reminded herself to even consider that, re-
gardless of the child he’d been. He had be-
haved abominably to her and that was all
that truly mattered.

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Somehow, though, she found herself re-ex-
amining all of the things that had happened
to her, that he had done, and she realized
that her fear had overshadowed everything.

John Dentin had not captured her and
dragged her away—her father had given her
to the man, but he was just as much a
stranger to her as Lord Rainier and, try
though she might, she couldn’t imagine her
wedding night would have been any less
frightening or painless. She would not have
been tied down. She would have had to con-
tain her fear and revulsion if she had felt it,
but the end would have been the same—or
possibly worse.

Lord Rainier had been thoughtful enough to
bring the magical oils and she had felt pleas-
ure, however reluctantly, however briefly.

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She was almost glad when he took her back
to the tower room. It would not do to allow
herself to forget that she was dealing with an
enemy.

“Has my father not answered the demand for
ransom?” she asked when he had returned
her to the room and turned to go.

He stopped abruptly and turned to look at
her. “Nay, he has not.” He hesitated for sev-
eral moments. “For I have not demanded a
ransom.”

Lilith felt her jaw drop in surprise. It took
several moments to recover enough to ques-
tion him further, for her mind was chaotic
with his cool announcement. “But—I don’t
understand. If you are not demanding
ransom, what do you want?”

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His gaze wandered over her. “Your father’s
daughter,” he said finally, and strode from
the room.

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Chapter Seven

Lilith was staring blindly at the needlework
in her lap, her mind far away, when Sarah re-
turned to bear her company. She was so en-
grossed in trying to unravel the puzzle she
might not even have noticed the maid except
for the fact that she virtually danced into the
room, clutching one large and one very small
package. After glancing around the tiny room
as if she expected to find something that was

not there, she moved to the bed and depos-
ited her bounty.

“Lady! Come and see what Lord Rainier
brought you from town!”

Lilith blinked, staring at the packages
blankly. “Lord Rainier sent those?”

Sarah grinned, nodding excitedly, practically
clapping her hands. “Gifts!”

He’d brought gifts? More puzzled than ever,
Lilith finally got to her feet and crossed the
room to stare at the packages.

“Aren’t you going to open them to see what
he brought you?” Sarah asked after several
moments.

Intrigued in spite of herself, Lilith reached
for the smallest and untied it. Out spilled a

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brush and a half dozen brightly colored rib-
bons. She had no particular interest in the
ribbons, but she almost felt like weeping at
the sight of the brush for she’d had nothing
but her fingers to try to make any sort of or-
der out of her hair and she was very self-con-
scious about her state of dishabille.

Setting the brush and ribbons aside, she
opened the larger package.

Sarah gasped in awe. “It’s—beautiful!” she
exclaimed, balling her hands into fists as if to
resist the temptation to touch the fine fabric.

It was fine fabric, Lilith acknowledged al-
most reluctantly as she tested it with her fin-
gers, and the color ….

“The color is perfect for you!” Sarah gushed,
glancing at Lilith happily. “It will be so pretty

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on you, for it goes perfectly with your
coloring.”

He’d brought fabric so that she could make
herself a new gown, a brush, ribbons for her
hair. Lilith settled on the bed beside her
bounty, feeling a little weak kneed.

Why?

It was hard to ignore the implication. He in-
tended to keep her here, indefinitely, and he
had not had the foresight to steal her trunk
when he had taken her.

Anger began to simmer in her clenched belly.

Did that dolt think that he was courting her,
she wondered a little wildly? Did he think
she was such a weak minded ninny that he
had only to toss her a few gifts to win her
over?

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He hadn’t wanted a ransom.

Why ask for a pittance in ransom when he
could take her and eventually have her entire
inheritance?

Getting to her feet abruptly, Lilith began to
stuff the fabric back into the package, tying it
up with shaking fingers. Almost as an after-
thought, she thrust the ribbons in with the
fabric.

She was keeping the brush. The rest he could
take and go straight to hell with as far as she
was concerned!

Grabbing the package up, she stalked to the
door and snatched it open, throwing the
haphazardly wrapped bundle at the man-at-
arms she found there. “Tell Lord Rainier that
I will not be treated like a—common

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layman!” she snapped furiously before slam-
ming the door in the man’s gawking face.

Returning to her bed, she snatched the brush
up and moved to the chair, which she poin-
tedly turned to face the window before she
sat, putting her back to Sarah, who was
simply staring at her with wide, tear filled
eyes and a wobbling chin.

Ignoring the sniffles behind her, she concen-
trated on raking the tangles out of her hair.
After a while Sarah took the hint and depar-
ted. Lilith’s shoulders slumped when the girl
had gone.

She felt like crying herself, but that only
made her angrier.

Lord Rainier did not appear and she was not
invited to dine in the hall when evening
began to close in. Instead, Sarah brought her

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a tray of food as she had before. The porridge
was absent. In its place were a couple of sliv-
ers of the same mutton that had been served
earlier, a crust of bread and cheese.

She wasn’t particularly hungry, but she ate
anyway. She had to keep her strength up.
She didn’t doubt in the least that Lord Raini-
er would keep his ‘appointment’ with her
later, for he never failed to show no matter
how ‘difficult’ she proved to be.

When she had eaten, Sarah helped her to
bathe and ready herself for bed, taking her
gown away for laundering and leaving her
with nothing but the thin night rail that had
been donated for her use. Too restless to
sleep, she paced the room.

She was standing by the window, having
pried one edge of the scraped hide that
covered it up to peer out at the darkness,

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when Lord Rainier entered the room, his ex-
pression grim.

Tensing all over, she turned to face him, but
she knew struggling was worse than useless,
worse because in the end he would win any-
way—he was far stronger than her regardless
of the fact that he was not considerably
taller—and nothing, she decided, was worse
than being tied down.

Perhaps, she thought a little glumly, if she
did not struggle he would not use the magic-
al oils on her and she could at least comfort
herself with the fact that she had not enjoyed
his caresses—that he had taken what he had
no right to and she had not given willingly.

Girding herself, she discarded the thin gown
without a word and moved to the bed, lying
upon it and staring up at the ceiling. He al-
most seemed to sigh with relief, but he

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studied her warily as he removed his clothing
and climbed onto the bed with her. When
she still made no attempt to struggle, he shif-
ted, leaning down to kiss her. She turned her
face away.

Instead of forcing the issue, he kissed her
cheek, moving his lips in a nipping trail
along her jaw to her hairline. His warm
breath tickled her ear, made her belly
tighten.

He rubbed his fingers along her collar bone,
traced his knuckles down the center of her
chest.

Her nipples tightened reflexively, her breasts
swelling with achy need despite her best in-
tent of remaining aloof to him. She resisted
the urge to flee, and he did not touch her
breasts, moving instead in a heated path
down her belly. He skimmed her navel, the

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muscles there jerking ever so softly, moving
down until his fingers played at her mound,
tickling the hairs on her apex.

Lilith tightened the clamp of her thighs, will-
ing herself to resist him.

He tenderly kissed her jaw, rubbing the
crease of her inner thighs, as if he could coax
her to part them. He licked her neck, nip-
ping, sucking the corner of her jaw.

She shuddered, squeezing her eyes tightly
shut, trying to ignore the insistent pull of his
lips, the playfulness of his fingers, growing
ever nearer to her hidden clit.

He sucked her earlobe into his mouth. Goose
bumps erupted over her flesh. She choked
back a whimper, but a gasp tore from her
throat as his fingers delved between her

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thighs and found that treacherous bud
nestled and awaiting his touch.

Defiantly, her thighs eased open, allowing
him access. He rubbed his tongue against her
lobe, nipping her even as he rubbed his
thumb on her clit and pushed two tapered
fingers inside her vagina.

Cream gathered at the invasion, making her
slick with desire. Her mind wailed at her
crumbling resistance. She opened her mouth
to cry out at the wash of sensation assailing
her body.

He captured her mouth with his—and she
did not pull away. He thrust his tongue into
her mouth, tasting her, ravaging her lips with
hungry strokes, pushing his fingers in and
out of her hole.

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It was so much more intimate than his love-
making before, than the thrust of his cock in-
to her sex. She breathed his soul, tasted his
essence,

the

wildness

of

his

mouth—everything that was him. It was ad-
dictive, drugging. Her pulsed roared through
her veins, thundering in her ears.

He groaned into her mouth, removing his
fingers so that he could settle on top of her.
He pushed her down into the bed as if he
wanted to sink inside her—breast to chest,
belly to belly, loin to loin. Everywhere he
touched seemed set ablaze. She felt like she
was on fire—fevered from a sickness that
only he could cure.

He grabbed her leg, hooking it over his hips
as he rubbed his cock insidiously against her,
letting her feel the erection he had for her.
She tore from his mouth, gasping for breath,

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moaning as the thick, flared head prodded
her opening.

“Your mouth is sweet, my flower. My Lily,”
he murmured before kissing her again. He
sawed his mouth across hers, nibbling, nip-
ping, tasting. He suckled her tongue raven-
ously even as he pushed himself slowly into
her core. Her muscles grasped him, welcom-
ing his thickness, until she felt as though he
shaped her to the curve of his cock. No other
lover would ever do … no one else could
make her body feel this way.

He thrust into her with tongue and cock,
stoking the embers of her longing with slow
deliberation.

She shouldn’t want this. It wasn’t possible.
He hadn’t used the oils. Madness had pos-
sessed her utterly … completely. She gave in
to it. She kissed him back, reveling in his

143/189

surprised tension at her boldness, the slow
melting of his shock as he hungrily accepted
her surrender.

She closed her arms around his neck, cling-
ing to him desperately. He shifted, keeping
them joined as he pushed up and back,
bringing them vertical. She was free of the
bed and the press of his body, yet her desire
still held her captive.

She wondered at the strangeness of it, the
elation that threatened to surge through her.

She sat in his lap, her legs wrapped around
his hips, riding him, rubbing her breasts and
belly against his hair roughened flesh. He
groaned into her mouth, cupping her but-
tocks, squeezing them, helping her to ride his
cock to fruition.

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The position allowed her to encompass him
more fully than before. He filled her, so
much, so deeply she could hardly stand it.
She rocked on him, her breasts achy, like
hard points against his chest. Their sweat
mingled, making them both slick, further
lubricating her movement, until she was rid-
ing him wildly. She leveraged her heels,
rocking hard, grinding herself against him,
flexing her thighs, every muscle.

Her clit throbbed mercilessly with each
move, until ecstasy suddenly erupted within
her and radiated to every inch of her body.

Lilith tore her mouth from his, screaming
her pleasure.

He cried out her name, Lily, at her sudden
release, throwing her back on the bed to
drive into her, thrusting through her trem-
bling muscles to his own shuddering climax.

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He collapsed on her, rolling off slightly to al-
low her breathing and heart to return to nor-
mal. Before she could think to push him
away, or think about how badly she had be-
trayed

herself,

he

was

touching

her

again—like it was the first time or that she’d
grown sensuously new, soft skin that he
couldn’t feel enough.

He made love to her again … all night long,
each time driving home the fact that she
could not resist the pleasure his powerful
body invoked.

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Chapter Eight

Lilith had grown accustomed to nightly visits
from Lord Rainier. Since that time that he
had taken her to eat in the great hall and
then taken her to walk in the barren gardens,
he had not tried to court her—or perhaps it
was her rejection of his offerings?—but he
never failed to appear at night, determined,
it seemed to her, to wring cries of delight
from her before he was completely satisfied.

She resented it, for all that. It would almost
have been better if he had tied her down and
used the magical oils, but he would not allow
her even that comfort, demanding that she
respond to him, commanding her body to
yield gladly when her mind still refused to
give in completely.

He startled her, however, when he arrived
early one morning nearly a week later, an old
crone in tow.

Lilith eyed the old woman warily.

“This is Usha. She will examine you.”

Lilith reddened. “I am not ill,” she said
tightly. “I have no need of a witch.”

Lord Rainier and the old woman exchanged
a look that Lilith found hard to interpret.

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“Nevertheless,”

Lord

Rainier

said

implacably.

Lilith set her jaw belligerently, but she
stalked to the bed and plopped on the edge.

The old woman shuffled over, bidding her to
lie flat. Feeling her belly tighten with fear, Li-
lith considered trying to bolt for several mo-
ments. She finally decided, however, that it
would be easier to simply allow the old wo-
man to do what she had come to do and get it
over with.

She lay down, staring at the ceiling, gripping
the dingy sheets in her fists as the woman
bent her knees and placed them on the mat-
tress before lifting her skirts. Horror filled
her when she felt a probing finger in her wo-
man’s place. She made an abortive attempt
to rise, abortive because Lord Rainier
stepped forward and placed a hand on her

149/189

torso, just beneath her breasts, and held her
down.

Blushing hotly, she glared at the ceiling,
fighting the urge to burst into tears at the hu-
miliating examination. Thankfully, after a
few moments, the old woman seemed satis-
fied and adjusted her skirts, stepping away.

Curious in spite of her discomfort, Lilith
looked at the woman.

Tears filled the old woman’s eyes and Lilith
felt her heart flutter with anxiety.

The color drained from Lord Rainier’s face.
“Well?”

The old woman cackled. “Praise be to the
gods! The curse is lifted, my lord! Your seed
grows in her womb. You must plant at once

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and you will see life burgeon once more on
your lands!”

Lord Rainier looked almost weak with relief,
and then as if he might dance with joy. Lilith
found her lips curling in response as he
grinned down at her, felt a tentative joy of
her own begin to oust her confusion.
Without warning, he grabbed her up and
kissed her soundly on the lips.

She was still struggling to grasp what had
happened when both Lord Rainier and the
old woman left the room, slamming the door
behind them. Stunned as much by their ab-
rupt departure as the comments the old wo-
man had made, Lilith merely stared at the
reverberating panel for some time after they
had gone.

Abruptly, a coldness washed over her.

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She was with child?

What had the old woman meant by the
curse?

A flurry of activity below distracted her from
her musings and she moved to the narrow
window, pulling the hide back to look out.
Below, she could see what appeared to be a
dozen servants and at least as many men-at-
arms working feverishly in the bailey to gath-
er farming tools. Lord Rainier appeared a
few moments later, a large bag on each
shoulder. Depositing them in the barrow that
stood beyond the shed, he disappeared
again, returning with two more bags.

More confused than ever, Lilith watched as
the strange procession trooped out the main
gates of the castle and into the fields beyond
it.

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They were planting!

She could not recall that she had ever heard
such rejoicing as the peasants set to work
tilling the soil and sewing their seeds, for she
could hear snatches of song as they worked,
excited chatter, even laughter from time to
time.

Of all the strange things that she had seen
since she had arrived at the castle, this was
the strangest by far.

After a time, she left the window to mull over
what the old woman had said.

Plainly, they believed the lands were cursed.
Just as clearly, they thought she was the in-
strument that would lift it.

It explained so much that she had found
confusing.

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Whether cursed or not, the lands had not
produced. They were starving, not just
starving her to make her submit. She had
seen they had almost no food. She had seen
that everyone, including Lord Rainier,
looked sunken faced from hunger, and still
she had simply not seen what was right in
front of her face.

She had willfully interpreted the hardship
she had seen as poor management on Lord
Rainier’s part and perhaps even frivolous
squandering of the resources of his land.

Dominic had been desperate to have her and
determined to sew his seed in her womb be-
cause the old witch had told him that was the
only way to lift the curse.

Lilith promptly burst into tears as that real-
ization settled in her mind.

154/189

Conceited idiot that she was, she had nursed
the private belief that he had not been able to
resist the temptation to have her for himself
when she had learned that he had not even
attempted to ransom her.

And now she was carrying his child. She had
seen that he was overjoyed at the news and
even that she had misinterpreted.

He had no interest in her or the child beyond
the fact that he believed its existence in her
womb would lift the curse.

And what if didn’t? What would become of
her then?

Her betrothed would certainly not have her
now. Perhaps her father would not even
want his daughter now that she was

155/189

despoiled and of no use to him in negotiating
a marriage settlement.

As if to bear up her suspicions, Lord Rainier
did not come to her that night, or the next, or
the one after that.

The guards disappeared from her door and
the door was no longer bolted, nor even
closed.

Lilith thought glumly that it was almost as if
he was inviting her to escape now that he no
longer needed her. She might have attemp-
ted it if she had not been too craven to face
her father with her condition. As it was, she
was too distressed even to consider leaving.

Almost another full week passed before Li-
lith finally nerved herself to venture from the
room and go downstairs to join the other
castle folk in the great hall. Almost as if he

156/189

sensed her presence, Lord Rainier looked up
when she simply hovered in the doorway to
the great hall, feeling woefully out of place,
uncomfortable with the notion that everyone
would stare at her—and not even certain
where she should sit if she joined the diners.

Rising at once, he crossed the room in swift
strides and offered his arm.

Relieved, Lilith sent him a tentative smile.

“I’m glad you decided to join us,” he mur-
mured politely, lifting her hand to kiss the
back in a courtly manner.

“I wasn’t certain it was allowed,” she said
hesitantly.

He frowned, turning to escort her to the
place where she had sat before, at the high
table next to him. Lilith had more than half

157/189

expected to encounter sly, knowing grins or
even censure. Instead, the gazes she noticed
were shy, almost adoring, or clearly filled
with approval.

Heartened, she was already feeling more
comfortable by the time she settled on the
bench. A trencher was brought for her. Lord
Rainier gave her an apologetic glance when
she saw that it was porridge again. “I will go
to the city when we have finished the plant-
ing and see if I can find something more to
your liking,” he offered after an uncomfort-
able moment. “But already the first seeds
have begun to sprout. Very soon, I am cer-
tain, we will have more than we can eat.”

Lilith blushed, uncomfortable at the realiza-
tion that she had shown such poor manners
in refusing to eat what little they had to offer.
They must see her as a spoiled, ill mannered,

158/189

ill tempered wretch. “Actually, I am growing
fonder of porridge,” she lied.

To her surprise, he chuckled. “I am growing
less fond daily. I hope you will not object if I
refuse to have it in our home once the har-
vest begins.”

Lilith’s heart picked up its pace at his com-
ment. Had it been merely a slip, she
wondered, that he had said ‘our’?

As if he realized the slip, he cleared his
throat uncomfortably and focused on his
food. Sighing, Lilith ate hers, trying not to
make faces as she swallowed the horrid
mess.

It occurred to her as she ate that he must
have taken the last of his coin when he had
gone to the city before and he had used it to

159/189

buy food more to her liking and the fabric
and ribbons she had refused.

Sarah had presented her with the finished
gown anyway—obviously made by the maids
using her own gown as a pattern, for it fit,
but it was poorly constructed for all that.

If he had not cared for her at all beyond her
use to him, why had he gone to so much
trouble to try to please her, she wondered?

“You are well?” he asked presently, keeping
his voice low.

Lilith blushed, realizing immediately that he
was referring to the child growing in her
belly. In truth, she could hardly believe that
it was there. She had felt no ill effects. If not
for the fact that her menses had not come as
they should have she might have believed the
old woman had been wrong. “Yes,” she

160/189

answered, too embarrassed to elaborate
further.

“Comfortable?”

Not very, but she supposed the tower room
was as comfortable as any other. She
nodded.

Dominic frowned. The room that had be-
longed to his mother was far more spacious,
but empty. Her furnishings had disappeared
with most of the other things that had once
lent beauty and comfort to his home. Allow-
ing the subject to drop, he focused on his
food, but his mind was elsewhere.

He had thought of little beyond getting the
fields planted as quickly as possible now that
they had some hope of a harvest and the pos-
sibility of food to fill their bellies this coming
winter.

161/189

At night, when he lay exhausted in his bed,
he thought of little besides Lilith, however.
He had performed his duty, in spite of all she
could do. He had not felt right to continue to
force himself upon her when he had done
what he had had to do to save his lands and
his people, particularly when she did not
want him—never had.

She was carrying his heir now, though. He
had to think beyond the growing desperation
he felt to take her to his bed again. He had to
think of her comfort and well being. He had
to think of their child.

She would never love him as his mother had
loved his father. He had thrown away any
chance of that when he had taken her against
her will, imprisoned her, hurt her. He had
been hopeful for a while that he might over-
come his knavish behavior, that he could still

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win her heart. His attempts to woo her had
been clumsy at best, however, and she had
flatly rejected his overtures. He knew better,
now, than to try to push for something
warmer between them. He could not even
believe that there was any chance of earning
her respect after all that he had done, but he
must do what he could to make things right.
In time, perhaps she would at least cease to
hate him.

He knew what he had to do, but he had faced
enemies across the battlefield and felt less
unnerved than he did now.

When they had finished eating, he excused
himself abruptly and left.

Lilith watched his hasty retreat, feeling
stepped on. Embarrassed at being aban-
doned, she got up after a few moments and,
holding her head high, marched across the

163/189

great hall and up to her tower room, resist-
ing the urge to flee.

She was still fighting the urge to cry and try-
ing to prod a spark of anger to life when Lord
Rainier appeared at her door. Sniffing, she
gave him a cold, unwelcoming look.

He almost seemed to wilt before her eyes.
After glancing around almost as if he was
tempted to simply bolt, he straightened his
spine and strode toward her. Kneeling, he
dug something from his pocket and held it
out.

Lilith stared down at the ring resting in his
palm,

feeling

her

heart

flutter

uncomfortably.

He cleared his throat, swallowing convuls-
ively several times. “This ring has been in my
family for generations. It is the Rainier

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betrothal ring, meant for the bride of the
Lord of Rainier.

“I realize that I have bungled every thing,
and you no doubt loath me, but—you carry
my

child.

I

pray

you,

accept

my

name—marry me.”

Lilith burst into tears, wailing loudly.

Lord Rainier turned as pale as death. After a
moment his face hardened with resolve,
however. “I will not have my son born a bas-
tard,” he said implacably.

Lilith wailed louder, covering her face with
her hands.

Dragging in a harsh breath, Dominic stared
down at her bowed head for several mo-
ments and finally pocketed the ring again.

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Turning, he left the room in complete
disorder.

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Chapter Nine

“Fetch me a priest!” Lord Rainier roared as
he reached the great hall once more, scatter-
ing the few people who loitered there.

Sarah, of all, lingered. “You will wed my
lady?”

His eyes narrowed on the girl. “Aye, will she,
nil she!” he growled. “Send someone to find a
priest, for I mean to have done with this.”

Frightened by his unaccustomed fury, Sarah
fled, but she had no notion of how to go
about finding a priest. Lord Rainier had run
them all off after the land began to die, in-
forming him they were useless and their
gods, as well, if their prayers went un-
answered and the lands continued to wither.
Finally, she decided to go to Usha for advice.

Usha was horrified at the command. “Under
no circumstances are you to do such a
thing!” she screeched at the girl. “Go! I will
try to reason with Lord Rainier.”

* * * *

Lilith only cried harder when she had suc-
ceeded in routing Lord Rainier. She had no
idea where the sorrow welled from, but it
seemed to pour forth undiminished no mat-
ter how hard she tried to stop.

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Why, she wondered, was she so hurt? He had
offered the perfect solution to her dilemma.
She was with child. The only reasonable
thing to do was to marry the father of the
child and she knew it, regardless of how it
had come about.

She could not say that she was appalled at
the idea. In the back of her mind, she knew
she had hoped that he would not simply
abandon her to her fate now that he had got-
ten her with child.

By the time her tears had begun to subside
she knew what it was that had hurt her. He
had not spoken of love, only the need to pro-
tect his child with his name.

It was absurd, of course. She had never
thought to find love. She had hoped that she
would be able to respect John Dentin,

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perhaps admire him, but she had not expec-
ted more from an arranged marriage.

She should not feel even that much for
Dominic, but she could no longer deny that
she did. Regardless of the consequences to
himself—and he had been greatly out-
numbered when he had stolen her away—he
had been willing to risk everything to save
the people who needed him and depended
upon him.

She could not hate him for such selflessness.
She could not even hate him for what he had
done to her, because in spite of all she could
do to prevent it, he had shown her passion.
He had made her feel desired as a woman
when she had always secretly believed that
no man could truly desire a great gawky wo-
man like herself.

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The problem was, somewhere along the way
she had begun to love him. It didn’t matter
how insane she thought it was, she did and
she had hoped that he felt tenderness for
her. His careful lovemaking had seemed to
indicate the possibility that he cared.

Now she could no longer delude herself that
he cared at all, or even desired her. He had
not touched her since he had learned that
she was with child.

She thought for several minutes that she
would begin to cry again. With an effort, she
fought the urge to bay.

She was behaving like a ninny! He had
offered her the security of his name. She
must take the opportunity for her child’s
sake, whatever else she thought about,
however unhappy she might be married to a

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man she cared for who did not return her
affections.

Dragging in a shaky breath to calm herself,
she moved resolutely to the washstand and
splashed cool water over her face until she
felt calmer. Girding herself, she left her room
to search for Lord Rainier to tell him that she
would be honored to accept his proposal.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs,
however, she heard the old woman, Usha
speak. For a moment, she struggled against
the urge to eavesdrop, but she lost the battle
fairly quickly and crept to the doorway of the
great hall.

* * * *

“You have sent for a priest?”

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Lord Rainier turned to glare at the old wo-
man. “I am not in the mood to listen to any
more of your advice, old woman,” he
growled.

“I will give it just the same. You will bring
disaster down upon us if you insist upon this.
You know that Somerset will descend upon
us and destroy us all if he discovers that it is
you who has taken his daughter—which he
will certainly know if you send for a priest.”

His eyes narrowed. “I have not lost my
mind,” he growled. “I will make certain that
the priest carries no tales, but I will wed
her.”

“Can you not at least wait?” the old woman
wheedled. “After harvest time, you will have
the coin to hire an army to defend the castle.
If you do this now, all will be for naught.”

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“It is hardly for naught!” Lord Rainier said
harshly. “I have earned a lifetime of hate,
distrust—revulsion from my lady. I will not
also have our child born to be despised and
looked upon with contempt. I will wed her
err the child is born.”

“It will do the child no good if he has no fath-
er!” Usha shot back at him. “Think you her
father will hesitate to destroy you once he
learns that you have wed his daughter and
thoroughly bedded her? He will make her a
widow!”

“At least she will have that—and my son my
name! I listened to you before, Usha, fool
that I was not to see beyond the needs of the
moment. What I have done to her is bad
enough. Think you she will understand and
forgive me if I die without making this right?
For her father will come regardless, and I
can not stop him.”

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“She will understand,” Lilith said, deciding
that she had heard all that she needed to
hear.

Lord Rainier’s head whipped around so
quickly she could not doubt that he had had
no notion that she was listening. The self-
satisfied look on Usha’s face told another tale
entirely, but she didn’t care if Usha had ma-
nipulated Dominic into saying what he had
said. All that mattered to her was that it
meant he must care for her a great deal if he
was willing to throw away everything he had
worked so hard to do to make things right for
her. “I came to tell you that I would be
honored to wed you, Dominic.”

He stared at her for several moments and fi-
nally crossed the room to her in quick
strides. Halting a little uncertainly before
her, he searched her face. She sensed that he

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had intended to pull her into his arms. She
was disappointed when he did not.

“Then we must wed as quickly as possible,”
he said finally.

Lilith sighed, shaking her head. “Perhaps
Usha is right. If a priest is sent for now, it
may alert my father.”

“He will leave no stone unturned until he
finds you regardless of what we do. I
will—feel better knowing that I have done
what I could to right what I did to you.”

Lilith frowned, considering the matter, and
finally realized that wedding Lord Rainier
might be the only hope of turning her father
from a path of vengeance. Surely if he saw
that it was done and could not be un-
done—and that she was satisfied to have it

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so, he would swallow his anger and wish
them happiness?

Her father was a cold man, and she had nev-
er felt a great deal of affection for him, or
from him, but he must care something about
his only flesh and blood. “Could it be done in
secrecy?” she asked doubtfully.

Dominic looked angry and a little ill. “Such a
thing would shame you, make it appear that
I am no more than a coward and not de-
serving of you,” he said harshly. “If we are to
do this, then we should do it as the celebra-
tion it is. We will invite your father.”

Lilith gaped at him in dismay. “Dominic! If
you care for me at all you will do no such
thing! He would see it only as a challenge.
That is not bravery! It is insanity!”

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He blushed faintly, but he was determined.
“I do care for you, Lilith. I love you. Look at
it this way, you won’t have to suffer being my
bride long and I will at least feel that I have
redeemed my honor, when I have felt these
past weeks that it was tarnished beyond
repairing.”

“Fool!” Lilith cried, angry in her fear. “I do
love you else I would have said nothing at all.
I don’t want to be your widow. I want to be
your wife.”

He studied her in surprise for several mo-
ments and finally pulled her against his
chest, kissing her deeply. “All the more reas-
on that I not shame you.”

“You are both fools! ‘Twas your father who
cursed these lands to begin with—in his
greed he has used the magic he learned from
your mother to drain all the lands

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surrounding his own to make himself richer
and more powerful. He will come and he will
not accept the marriage. He will come only to
destroy! You must do as I told you to begin
with. You must return her to her father. She
cares for you. She will say nothing and there
will still be a chance for us.”

Lord Rainier stared at the old woman for
several moments. “Then it was you who
sealed our fate,” he said harshly. “You had to
know from the beginning that nothing I
could do would change the outcome. We
were doomed before. We are just as surely
doomed now unless by some miracle I can
withstand the siege he will certainly mount
against me. For I will certainly not abandon
my Lily to bear her father’s temper alone.”

He turned to study Lilith for several mo-
ments. “I will take you into Arnon. We will
find a priest who will wed us and then we

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will announce our nuptials and welcome any
who will come to celebrate with us.”

“Is what she says true?” Lilith demanded.
“You were to return me to my father? Why
would you risk everything when you could
avoid it? You must do it now, before it is too
late!”

“It was too late for me from the moment I
took you, Lily,” Dominic said quietly. “Honor
the promise you have made to me.”

Disgusted, Usha left, muttering under her
breath about fools.

Lilith tried to persuade Dominic to take her
back to her father so that she could stop
what was bound to happen if she were not
returned. He refused, becoming angry and fi-
nally informing her that he would take her

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and wed her if he had to tie her to his griffin
as he had before.

Lilith capitulated, but she was more
frightened than she had thought it possible
to be without dying from it when she and
Dominic mounted his griffin and flew away.
Somehow, she would have to find a way to
avert disaster, but she had no clue of how she
was to do it.

* * * *

A sense of satisfaction filled Usha as she
watched their departure. It was done. Fright-
ening as this particular part was, it had
needed to be done. Lilith was Aurorian to be
sure and blessed by the gods, but only child
begat of true love could break curse and that
emotion had been too fragile between them
before. Now, they would seal their love for
one another.

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And she must see to it that Somerset paid for
his crimes, for the curse would linger while
he still lived.

She did not doubt the success of her task.
She had seen what was to be done long ago.
All she need do was to make certain that
everyone who had suffered because of Lord
Somerset’s greed knew whom they had to
thank for their suffering. They did not have
to be allies of Lord Rainier. They need only
be against Somerset.

Rousing one of the guards, she badgered him
and berated him until she convinced him
that the only way to rid himself of the nuis-
ance was to take her where she wished to go.
Hitching up a cart to a broken down nag, he
set off with the crazy old woman who seemed
to think she was going to raise an army big
enough to fight Lord Somerset.

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* * * *

The wedding was bittersweet, for as happy as
Lilith was to take her vows, she was terrified
for Dominic. His castle was strong, but there
were no more than a handful of defenders to
keep her father’s army at bay. The only hope
they had, as far as she could see, was for her
to plead with her father once he came.

He came.

Two days after they were wed, they were
awakened by the sound of the warning
horns. Grim faced, Dominic kissed her, held
her tightly for a handful of eternity and then
left her to do what he could to defend his
castle from the oncoming army.

Lilith didn’t want to get in the way, but
neither would she cower in their chamber.

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When she had dressed, she went up onto the
walls herself.

Dominic was furious. He commanded her to
go and lock herself into her tower room until
the battle was finished. She flatly refused.
She would stay and try to talk to her father.
If he refused to listen to reason, she meant to
help to defend their home.

Instead of arguing further, Dominic kissed
her, held her tightly to him for several mo-
ments, and then tossed her over his shoulder
and carried her to the tower, tying her to the
bed and locking the door firmly behind him.

In vain, Lilith struggled to free herself, but
although she rubbed her wrists and ankles
raw with the effort, she could not break free.
She could only listen fearfully as the army
began their assault on Castle Rainier, pray-
ing to any of the gods she thought might

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listen to protect her beloved fool of a
husband.

The battle was fierce from the sounds that
filtered into her tower room. Lilith was too
frightened at first to think that odd, but
neither could she maintain so much fear for
very long and after a time it occurred to her
that there was far too much noise for a hand-
ful of defenders.

Near dusk, Sarah came at last and freed her.

“Dominic?” Lilith gasped fearfully.

Sarah nodded, covering her face as she burst
into tears. “It is over. Praise to the gods,
ended!”

Feeling as if she might faint, Lilith stood on
legs that wobbled and staggered from the
room. By the time she reached the ground

185/189

floor, she had recovered enough to run. She
was halfway across the great hall when the
doors opened abruptly and Dominic stepped
inside.

“Dominic! I thought you were dead!” Lilith
cried, rushing to him and examining his
wounds fearfully.

He pulled her close. “I thought so, too. Usha
brought an army. They fell upon your fath-
er’s army from behind and … he is slain, Lily.
I am so sorry.”

She shook her head, trying to fight the tears
streaming down her cheeks. “It hurts me to
know it—more than I would have thought it
could, but I am more glad that you are un-
hurt than I am sorrowed by the loss of my
father.

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“If what Usha said of him is true, then he
brought it upon himself with his greed. If he
had not harmed so many, then they would
not have gathered against him.”

“Only time will tell if what she told us was
true. If the lands begin to heal—in the mean-
while, we have an army to feed and naught
but a bit of porridge to feed them,” he said
tiredly.

Lilith smiled at him, shaking her head.
“There is more than enough to feed them at
Somerset. I know in my heart that Usha was
right. We will open the granaries and storage
houses and divide the bounty among all who
were hurt by my father to keep them until
their lands will support them once more.”

Dominic caressed her cheek, smiling down at
her. “I knew that there was a reason beyond
your beautiful body that I loved you,” he

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murmured teasingly. “You mean to feed me.
I will worship you forever.”

Lilith chuckled, her voice husky with prom-
ise. “Of course I mean to feed you. You must
keep up your strength.”

The End

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