Lord Of Danger by Stuart, Anne (android based ebook reader .TXT) 📕

her apprehension. Why would Richard decree that she learn of her marital duties? The obvious answer was too disturbing to contemplate.

“You must submit,” Lady Hedwiga began in her nasal voice that was not much better than a whine. “Marital relations are women’s punishment for Eve’s sin. It is a trial and a torture, an abomination that women must endure.”

This was hardly a surprise to Alys, as she’d heard the same from the Reverend Mother and the other nuns. However, those august ladies had been speaking from a total lack of experience, something Lady Hedwiga didn’t share.

“Torture?” Claire echoed in a nervous voice.

“Hideous torture,” Lady Hedwiga said, with a grim nod of her head. “It is brutal, painful, wet, and disgusting—”

“Wet?” Alys echoed in surprise.

“You will bleed and wish you were dead,” Hedwiga continued, ignoring the interruption. “And there is no escape from the horrors until you either quicken with child or die. The latter would be preferable, since once the child is born your husband will want to commence his foul rutting once more.”

Alys said nothing, glancing once more at her sister. Claire’s skin was pale, her eyes wide, her expression a mixture of shock and fear, and Alys’s immediate temptation was to panic as well. It took a supreme effort to plaster a faint, calm smile on her face.

“If it’s so horrible, Lady Hedwiga, then why do people persist in doing it?” she asked with perfect sense.

Lady Hedwiga glared at her. “If it were up to womankind it would be stopped.”

“And then there’d be no mankind,” Alys said in her most polite voice.

It wasn’t meek enough. “Pert,” Hedwiga declared with a mighty glare. “It must be endured by certain women to ensure the continuation of the race. But there is no other reason. As for men, they are beasts, foul and unreasonable.”

“But Lady Hedwiga,” Alys said, “exactly what does this foul and unreasonable act entail?”

Claire made a choking sound beside her, and Lady Hedwiga turned red with fury and embarrassment Alys had hoped the question would serve to silence her, but she had underestimated her adversary, and there was no question that Hedwiga was exactly that.

“It requires you to lie still, close your eyes, and submit,” she said through gritted teeth. “That is all you need to know. Allow your husband no liberties.”

“I suspect, my lady, that what one may or may not allow Simon of Navarre has little to do with what will happen.” She was trying to sound calm and philosophical, but there was no denying the wistful note in her voice.

“He’s the spawn of Satan,” Lady Hedwiga hissed. “He will seek to destroy your soul for his Evil Master.”

“Surely Richard isn’t evil,” Alys said, not sure of any such thing. “A bit hot-headed, I grant you, but…”

“I’m talking about the devil, wench!” Hedwiga jabbed a pointy finger at Alys’s chest “Simon of Navarre is a witch, a wizard who serves one master on earth and one master in hell. Take no pleasure from his foulness. Hold your mind aloof as he practices his wickedness upon your body.”

“How could I take pleasure if it’s disgusting, torturous, and evil?” Alys asked.

“Not to mention wet,” Claire added helpfully.

“It’s the devil’s work. Part of his cunning plan to steal your soul. There are rumors that Simon of Navarre has been gelded. Do not count on God’s being so merciful.”

“God is always merciful.” Brother Jerome stood in the doorway, and Alys felt her heart and stomach plummet. He was dressed in holy vestments, prepared for a holy rite, and since it didn’t appear as if anyone was about to die or be baptized, there was only one disturbing alternative. “Trust in Him, Lady Alys, and be obedient.”

Richard shouldered his way past the slender priest, his thinning blonde hair damped and draped over his skull, his impressive paunch decorated in a tunic of scarlet that clashed with the deep rose of Alys’s dress. He paid it no mind, hauling Alys off of her bench and imprisoning her within the reach of one meaty arm. “You’re prettier than I would have thought, lass,” he said, leering down at her. “Perhaps I’ve been too hasty in promising you to Simon of Navarre.” He caught her chin in his rough hand, pinching her painfully. “After all, he’s pledged to me, and it would be a foolish man who dared betray me.”

She knew he was there, she could feel his presence, even though Richard’s bulk obscured almost everything. And she knew now why she’d been given a glorious rose-colored dress and ordered to appear at her brother’s side.

She turned her head, and Simon stood there, dressed in black robes, a silver dragon adorning the front of his long tunic. If he were astounded, humbled by the sudden improvement in her appearance, his face didn’t give it away. As usual, his expression was impossible to read, and his golden eyes moved over her with what seemed like distant curiosity.

“Perhaps Lady Alys should have a say in the matter, my lord,” he murmured. “Marriage to me, now, or later to a different man of your choosing.”

Richard laughed. “What say you, lass? Marriage to my Grendel, with a withered claw and probably a withered rod as well, or would you rather wait and see who else turns up?”

She couldn’t believe he was really offering her the choice. She looked around her, at the faces of those in Lady Hedwiga’s chilly solar. She glanced at Claire’s stricken face and opened her mouth to speak, but Simon was already ahead of her.

“You have my bond whether I marry your sister or no,” he said to Richard. “And I have no interest in the younger one. I’ll take Lady Alys if she wishes, or continue as I am.”

“You hear that, sister?” Richard said. “Not many women are given a choice in matters like this. Shall you marry my pet monster or live in celibacy for a bit longer?”

They waited for her answer. She didn’t for one moment believe that she really had