The Taming Read online

  “Jeanne Howard,” she said. Her teeth were beginning to chatter.

  “Yes, that woman has caused the deaths of—”

  “Basil and James,” she supplied.

  He stopped and glared at her. “Do you make light of me?” he whispered.

  Her eyes were pleading with him. “Rogan, I’ve never meant to make light of something as awful as death. I was merely asking my husband about his first wife. Every woman is curious about the other women in her husband’s life. I’ve just heard so much about Jeanne and—”

  “Who told you?”

  “The Lady.” When Rogan obviously didn’t know who she meant, she said, “I believe she’s Severn’s lady, although she’s somewhat older than he is.”

  Rogan’s face lost its hard look. “I wouldn’t dare remind Iolanthe that she’s older than Severn if I were you.” He paused. “Io told you about…”

  He didn’t seem able to say his first wife’s name, and this bothered Liana. Was he still so much in love with her? “I’ve never met Iolanthe, but the Lady mentioned her. Rogan, I’m freezing. Couldn’t we talk over there? In the sun?”

  Twice he’d walked away from her when she’d mentioned that woman’s name and both times he’d returned, and now he was considering remaining with her to “talk.” He grabbed Liana’s hand and pulled her from the stream.

  When they were in the sun, he folded his arms across his chest and set his jaw. He was never, ever again in his life going to agree to spend a day with a woman—especially not this one. She had a talent for picking at his sorest spots. “What is it you want to know?” he asked.

  “Was she pretty? Were you very much in love with her? Is she the reason the castle was so dirty? Did you vow to never love another woman because she hurt you so? Why would she want Oliver Howard instead of you? What’s he like? Did she make you laugh? Is it because of Jeanne that you never smile? Do you think I can ever replace her in your heart?”

  When the questions at last stopped, Rogan just stood there looking at Liana. His arms were at his sides and his mouth was open a bit in astonishment.

  “Well?” Liana said, encouraging him. “Is she? Was she? Tell me!”

  Rogan wasn’t sure what he’d expected from her when he’d asked her what she wanted to know, but these frivolous, unimportant, lovesick questions were not it. His eyes began to twinkle. “Beautiful?” he said. “The moon was afraid to come up over Moray Castle because it couldn’t compete with the beauty of…of…”

  “Jeanne,” Liana said thoughtfully. “Then, she was much prettier than me?”

  He couldn’t believe she was taking this seriously. Truthfully, he didn’t remember what his former wife looked like. It had been so many years since he’d seen her. “Much,” he said in mock seriousness. “She was so beautiful that…” He searched for a comparison. “…that charging war horses would halt before her and eat from her hand.”

  “Oh,” Liana said, and sat down on a rock, her wet clothes making squishing noises. “Oh.”

  Rogan gave the top of her bowed head a look of disgust. “She could never wear pretty clothes because if she did, she hurt men’s eyes. She had to wear peasants’ clothes all the time just to keep from blinding people. If she rode into the village, she had to wear a mask or otherwise men would throw themselves under her horse’s hooves. Diamonds looked dull next to—”

  Liana’s head came up. “You’re teasing me.” There was hope in her voice. “What did she really look like?”

  “I don’t remember. She was young. Brown hair, I think.”

  Liana realized that this last was the truth, that he didn’t remember much about Jeanne’s looks. “How can you forget someone you loved so much?”

  He sat down on the grass, his back to her, and looked at the stream. “I was just a boy, and my brothers ordered me to marry her. She…she betrayed me, all of us. James and Basil died trying to get her back.”

  She went to him and sat beside him, her cold wet side next to the warm dryness of him. “She’s what has made you sad?”

  “Sad?” he said. “The death of my brothers has made me sad. Seeing them die one by one, knowing that the Howards have taken everything I ever wanted in life.”

  “Even your wife,” she whispered.

  He turned and looked at her. He hadn’t thought of his first wife in a personal way in years. He couldn’t remember her face, her body, anything at all about her. But as he looked at Liana he thought that if she left, he would remember a great deal about her—and it wouldn’t just be her body either, he thought with astonishment. He’d remember some of the things she’d said.

  He put his hand out and touched her damp cheek. “Are you as simple as you seem?” he asked softly. “Is whether someone loves you or thinks you’re beautiful the most important thing in your life?”

  Liana didn’t like to sound so frivolous. “I can watch the accounts of the estates. I can produce thieves. I can judge court cases. I can—”

  “Judge?” Rogan asked, leaning away to look at her. “How can a woman make a decent judgment? The judgments are not about love and who has the cleanest floor—they’re about issues of importance.”

  “Give me an example,” Liana said evenly.

  Rogan thought it better not to burden a woman’s mind with too many serious matters, but he also wanted to teach her a lesson. “Yesterday a man and three witnesses came to me with a document signed with a seal. The document said the man was the owner of a farm, but the farm’s previous owner would not leave. That man had put his seal to the paper as collateral for a debt. Now the debt went unpaid, but the first owner remained on the farm. How would you have settled the matter?” he asked smugly.

  “I would make no judgment until I’d heard the first owner’s testimony. The king’s courts have ruled that a seal is too easy to forge. If the man was educated enough to have a seal, perhaps he could also write his own name. He would have put his seal and his mark on the paper. I would also question whether the witnesses were friends of the first man or not. All in all, the case does not sound straightforward to me.”

  Rogan gaped at her. The document had indeed proved to be a false one, made by a man who was angry at having seen his young wife talking to the owner’s son.

  “Well?” Liana said. “I hope you did not send men to throw the poor farmer off his land.”

  “I did not,” he snapped. “Nor did I burn anyone for eating rats.”

  “Or impregnate a daughter?” she said teasingly.

  “No, but the farmer’s wife was a beauty. Big—” He held his hands in front of him.

  “You!” Liana said, and lunged at him.

  He caught her, pretended that her weight had knocked him down, then held her closely to him. He kissed her.

  “I did well in the judgment, didn’t I? The document was false, wasn’t it?” She was lying on top of him, feeling his strong, hard body under hers.

  “Your clothes are wet,” he said. “Maybe you should take them off and let them dry.”

  “You’re not going to distract me. Was the document false or not?”

  He lifted his head to kiss her again, but she turned her face away.

  “Was it?” she asked.

  “Yes, it was false,” he said, exasperated.

  Liana laughed and began kissing his neck.

  Rogan closed his eyes. He’d had so few women in his life who weren’t afraid of him. The high-born women of the courts usually turned up their noses at him, so Rogan told himself he preferred the servant girls. They were usually fearful of his scowls and frowns. But this woman laughed at him, yelled at him—and refused to obey him.

  “…and I can help,” she was saying.

  “Help in what?” he murmured.

  “The judgments.” She was running her tongue along his collarbone.

  “Over my dead body,” he said cheerfully.

  She wiggled on top of him. “I’m over your body, but it doesn’t feel very dead to me.”

  “You’re an i