She bit her lower lip instead of answering. Annoying him was certain to land her in difficult circumstances. For all that they were strangers, the man was her husband and the law favored him in every way. She was his chattel.
“Dinnae hide yer spirit from me, Helena.”
Her eyes narrowed. He drew in a stiff breath.
“I suppose we’d better get to dressing, or the king will be unhappy that we missed his hunt, because I’m going to take ye back to bed in another few minutes of this quarreling. We communicate very well in bed.”
He turned and left in a swirl of wool kilt. Excitement tingled all over her skin, but her temper raised its head.
The man was far too sure of his ability to…to…well, to make her body perform as he willed. It was infuriating.
It was also exciting….
She scoffed at herself. She took a step toward her trunk and shook when her passage gave a slight protest. But lust was gently throbbing in her clitoris again. Her gaze swept the room, taking in the details she hadn’t yet committed to memory. Her emotions were tangled. Tears stung her eyes, but she ordered them to remain unshed.
She was a wife now. How many years had she been told about what was expected of her? Keir was not unkind, but he was a man.
And she would have to learn to live with his rule, and someday his mistress.
Two tears eased down her cheeks. It hurt to think of him with other women. It shouldn’t. No noble wife received fidelity. But that didn’t stop her from wanting it. More tears eased from the corners of her eyes. She wanted her gallant knight; wanted a childhood fantasy so badly that it hurt.
But that was only because she wanted something that a marriage could not provide. Such a thing was shattered by reality. Those who loved lost when they gave into lust. The two did not mix.
She could have loved Keir and she mourned that loss.
Rage was strength. Pure, undiluted strength.
Edmund Charles Knyvett, heir to the earldom of Kenton, drew a deep breath and gave himself over to the anger burning inside him. He felt the flames licking along his limbs, burning away everything else. His thoughts were consumed until nothing but white-hot rage filled him. It was perfection. He missed the sheer abundance of emotion when he didn’t have enough reason to work himself up into a rage often enough.
Keir McQuade made an excellent target.
That bastard Scot had no doubt spent the night between his sister’s thighs. The image of them fucking fueled his rage. The stupid bitch had no doubt raised her hips for his damned common cock. Her womb was now stinking with his less-than noble seed. It was like a disease, eating away at her well-born womb. It disgusted him.
But the rage made every muscle in his body hard. He grabbed a goblet sitting on a table in his chamber and swallowed the wine left in it. A snarl left his lips when he turned it all the way up and the wine was finished.
“Wine!”
He hurled the goblet at the door, his rage making his arm stronger. He smiled as the goblet clattered to the floor. The sound echoed throughout the chamber.
All of his senses were heightened. He felt every little thing more intensely when he allowed the rage to rule him. Self-discipline was overrated. All it did was mask the nature of what he might feel when he was unfettered by the bounds of right and wrong.
“Wine, my lord.” Young Avis froze halfway into a curtsy. Her eyes widened when they saw his cock standing tall. His night-shirt was in shreds because his skin needed to be free when he let himself burn with rage. He laughed at her horror. He could smell the fear on her skin. Her gaze darted to the door but there was no way to avoid serving her master.
“Wine!”
She moved forward on hesitant steps, offering the tray with the fresh goblet up in front of her. She was pathetic, a coward like all females. Their whining sickened him, but his cock twitched, recognizing something of which it might make use.
He grabbed the goblet and reached over the tray to grasp her neck.
“My lord! I beg you!”
She whimpered, but the rage burning inside him made it hard to hear such a weak sound. Taking a swallow of the wine, he dumped the goblet behind him.