The Spitfire (5 page)

“My lady Rowena.” Lady Grey’s hand was saluted.
I shall swoon dead away
, Rowena Grey thought, both horrified and thrilled by her reaction to this man. These were feelings that she thought had died with Henry, and yet she could feel the wetness between her thighs already. “I am grateful, my lord, that you have come to our rescue,” she said with far more calm than she was feeling. What kind of a woman was she to have such thoughts about the man who would be her daughter’s husband? God forgive her!

No one else would have seen these thoughts which she labored so hard to mask, but Jasper Keane saw them deep within Rowena’s light blue eyes. A young widow, he almost purred with his pleasure. A young widow hot and ripe for the plucking. Mother and daughter, his for the taking. He had never had both a mother and her daughter. The thought was almost unbearably exciting, and he thanked God that his clothing hid the state of his lust. He could imagine, but vividly, the entire scene.

Strangely, it was his bride-to-be who rescued him. “My cousin, Prince Edward, has given me a deer hound puppy,” she said. “It will have to stay here at Middleham until it is weaned, however.”

“Have you ever trained a dog, my Lady Arabella?” he asked her.

“Nay, my lord, but I watched my father, and FitzWalter’s son, Rowan, has a touch with the dogs, our kennel master says. FitzWalter says, however, that the kennel master, having no sons, would like to steal his from him. He says that Rowan will be a soldier like he has been, and if he is a very good soldier, he might one day be Greyfaire Keep’s captain too.”

The queen laughed. “As you can see, Sir Jasper,” she said, her tone doting, “my little cousin is full of news. I think she loves her Greyfaire even as much as my lord, the king, loves Middleham. I hope you will be happy together. When Arabella reaches her fourteenth birthday in another two and a half years, you may plan to wed with her, provided that she is of a mind to wed with you, but I am certain that if you treat her with loving kindness, she will be content to have you for her husband. If, however, she is not, you will be compensated by the crown for the time and care you have given Greyfaire Keep.”

“I shall do my best, my lady queen, to keep faith with your majesties,” Sir Jasper said.

Queen Anne nodded, satisfied. “Then it is settled,” she said, and turning to her cousins, kissed them both in farewell. Removing a small ring from her littlest finger, she gave it to Rowena. “Should you ever have need of my help, Rowena, send me back the ring,” she told her favorite cousin, slipping the little signet upon the other woman’s finger. “I will aid you as long as I shall live.” Bending down, she spoke softly to Arabella so that only the young girl might hear her. “Wed him only, my child, if you truly love him. If you find that you do not, do not be afraid to tell him no. I would not have you unhappy. These few years before we will allow your marriage to be celebrated will give you time to know the man.”

“He is most beautiful to look upon, madame,” Arabella said shyly.

“Beauty does not always mean goodness, little cousin,” the queen warned. “You must ever look beyond beauty for the truth.” Then she hugged Arabella hard, sending her cousins and Sir Jasper upon their way.

They took their final leave of King Richard and rode out from Middleham Castle on a warm and sunny late September morning. There were a dozen men-at-arms from Greyfaire who had escorted the women from their home, and Sir Jasper had another dozen men which added to their little troop, making it quite formidable. Watching them go from his place upon the castle’s ramparts, the king wished with all his heart that all his problems were as easy to solve as had been the matter of Lady Arabella Grey and Greyfaire Keep.

Chapter Two

Sir Jasper Keane could not remember when he had ever been so content in his entire life. A man could go soft living so comfortably, he thought, as he gazed with a pleased eye about the little hall at Greyfaire Keep. It was a pleasant place, with four windows that held real glass to keep out the winter winds which, even now, blew about the small castle. The stone floors were swept daily, their rushes and sweet herbs totally replaced, for Lady Rowena was an excellent housekeeper and could not abide evil odors. There were two fireplaces in the hall, and neither smoked. Consequently, the hall was relatively warm and cozy.

Before him upon the burnished oak table of the highboard was a polished pewter plate with a hollowed-out trencher of freshly baked bread. A silent servant ladled hot oat porridge into the trencher, while another set a second plate with bread, a wedge of cheese, and a slice of ham by his side, and a third filled his goblet with brown ale. Jasper Keane began to eat with good appetite, smiling as he discovered sweet chunks of dried apple in the cereal, for he had mentioned in passing to Lady Rowena that he did not care for the bland oat dish that was served daily each morning. It took but a word to Row, and she would immediately endeavor to correct the problem.

Sir Jasper Keane had been at Greyfaire Keep for five months now. He had been extremely pleased by what he had found upon his arrival. Everything was in good order, and FitzWalter, the keep’s captain, had immediately deferred to him, readily accepting him as Greyfaire’s new lord. Consequently, it would not be necessary to replace him or demote him, which relieved Sir Jasper. He did not intend to remain upon the border forever, and when he went off, he would have two needs, to know that his home was in capable hands, and to have Seger, his own captain, by his side, for Seger was invaluable to him.

His little bride-to-be was an amusing, if somewhat outspoken girl, but there was time enough to correct her behavior. If he had one complaint, it was the fact that he had had to curb his behavior in order that these two females who held his future in their hands not take offense. He had refrained from using the keep’s women servants to service his needs, instead roaming the border for his amusement while the weather had remained clement. For the last few weeks, however, the weather had been foul, and he had been forced to remain within his walls.

His loins ached for a woman. He wondered if he might, now that several months had passed, seduce Rowena. That she desired him he had absolutely no doubt, although she struggled mightily to conceal her longing. He had no doubt that he was responsible for the increasingly long hours she spent in the keep’s chapel upon her knees, but he knew she had not confided her sinsto Father Anselm, their resident priest, for the cleric’s kindly manner toward Jasper Keane had not changed since their first meeting.
Sweet Row,
he had heard the king call her. Was she indeed sweet?

Jasper Keane’s eyes narrowed in contemplation. He imagined Rowena, whom he now knew to be four years his junior, naked. She had fine, full breasts and a still slender waist, he could see. She was small of stature, which he liked in a woman, and he did not imagine her legs would be long. Were her thighs soft and rounded? Her Venus mont pink and silky-skinned? Would her bottom be plump? He hoped so, for nothing irritated him more than a woman with skinny shanks. A woman with a fat rump displayed well the marks of his palm upon her fair flesh.

Rowena Neville Grey had a pretty face. He liked her round and trusting light blue eyes. He particularly liked her full and pouting lips. It was a voluptuous mouth which he did not doubt would be skilled at kissing. Did she have other skills at which her lips were equally as deft? If she did not, he would soon teach her. The thought of that sensual mouth expertly mastering him was almost more than he could bear. He wanted her. He would have her. He had waited long enough. The question of how to persuade Rowena to overcome her scruples was something he must ponder, and then the answer became crystal clear.

Arabella!
His little bride-to-be was the answer. He would threaten to debauch the girl, who was the apple of her mother’s eye, if Lady Rowena did not yield herself to him. The lady, already struggling against her own lustful nature, could surrender herself to him with a clear conscience and the belief that she was protecting her daughter. He almost laughed aloud at his own cleverness. He would accost her this very day, and tonight he would enter her bed, wipe away her few guilty tears, and she would be his for as long as it amused him.

And suddenly, as if he had called her, she was at his side, smiling hesitantly. “Good morrow, my lord. Was the porridge more to your liking this morning?”

“Aye,” he answered her. “Where is Arabella? I have not seen her yet today.”

“She has taken a chill, and I have told her she must remain in her bed this day. It is rare she is ill.”

“Come,” he said, standing up. “Let us go and see her. I’m certain our company will cheer her up.”

“My lord, she is in her shift. I do not think it proper that you see her in her shift,” Rowena protested nervously.

He took her by the shoulders and looked down into her face. He could feel her quivering beneath his fingers, and he smiled a slow smile. “Arabella is to be my wife, sweet Row. Soon enough I will see her both in and out of her shift. There is no lack of propriety here. Will you not be with me?” Then taking her hand, he practically dragged her off to Arabella’s chamber, which was located on the floor above the hall.

FitzWalter’s young daughter, Lona, sat upon the bed, playing a game with pebbles with Arabella. Looking up at him, they both began to giggle, and Sir Jasper playfully threw himself on the bed between them. Lona shrieked a sound that was almost kittenish, and he reached out to tickle her ribs. Lona squirmed and wiggled, her laughter rising even as Arabella threw herself upon them.

“No! No! Lona is the most ticklish girl in the world, my lord. Have mercy!” Arabella cried.

For a moment he ceased his frolic, and then turning his gaze on her, he said, “And are you ticklish, Arabella,
ma petite
?”

“Nay!”

“Liar!” he retorted, and before she might escape him, his fingers reached out to find her.

“Ohhhhh!” Arabella gasped, laughing wildly, tears coming to her eyes. “Stop! Stop!” And she writhed desperately to escape, her shift riding up to display her naked legs and bottom.

“Arabella!”
Rowena’s voice was shocked, but her shock was more due to the fact that Sir Jasper’s hands seemed to be everyere upon her daughter’s body. They skimmed lightly over her barely-forming breasts, brushed casually over the girl’s belly and lower.
“Arabella! Sir Jasper!
Stop it this minute. Lona! Get off the bed this instant and pull down your skirts!” She dragged the little girl onto her feet and then reached out for Sir Jasper.

At the touch of her hand upon his shoulder, he immediately ceased his frolic with Arabella and, turning, looked full into her face as he said, “If our life together is to be so happy, I regret the necessity of our waiting to celebrate this marriage.” He stood up, giving Arabella a pat upon her bottom even as he drew the negligent shift back down to a more respectable level.

“My lord!” Rowena said angrily. “Arabella is ill and must stay quiet. I cannot allow this outrageous rollicking. Lona! Go to your mother and help her with the laundry.” With a sudden chastened look, Lona curtsied to her mistress and scampered from the room.

Rowena took her daughter’s rosary beads from the girl’s bedside table, saying as she did so, “Say your beads, Arabella. It will calm you and hopefully restore you to a more obedient spirit.” She handed the rosary to her daughter. “Come, my lord. We will leave Arabella to her meditations.”

“I wish we were wed now too,” Arabella said defiantly to her mother. “Then I should be my own mistress here at Greyfaire!”

“Apologize to your mama,
ma petite
,” Sir Jasper said quietly. “She thinks only of your good.”

Arabella’s lower lip quivered mutinously, but then she said, “Pardon, Mama.”

Rowena flew across the room and, bending down, hugged her daughter. “You are forgiven, my darling, but now rest. I know how very much you dislike being ill.” She kissed her child upon herforehead and then led Sir Jasper from the bedchamber. Once again in the keep’s hall, Sir Jasper turned to Rowena and said, “Arabella will be twelve at the end of March, will she not?”

“Aye, my lord,” Rowena said, giving him a goblet of wine as he stood by the fire.

“Plenty of girls are married at twelve, lady. I will not truly be master here at Greyfaire until I am your daughter’s husband.”

“None here have denied you, my lord, and both the king and the queen have said the wedding may not take place until Arabella is fourteen, or more.”

“But if you asked them to allow the marriage now, I doubt that they would gainsay you,” he said. “I have needs, madame, if I may be blunt with you.”

“
Needs?”
For a moment she was puzzled, and then Rowena’s cheeks flamed.

He shrugged his shoulders. “I am a man, madame. If I do not have a wife with whom to satisfy these needs, I must find another. Sooner or later word of my nocturnal roamings will reach your daughter’s ears. She will be hurt, and she will be angry. Virgins like Arabella, raised gently, do not understand the darker nature of a man. I regret my weakness, sweet Row, but what can I do?”

“Could you not take a mistress, my lord? Many men do,” she said.

“Whether I visit one woman or a dozen, my comings and my goings would still be commented upon,” he said. “I can see but one solution. I must wed your daughter in the spring.”

“No!”

He saw the agony in her eyes, and suddenly he decided that the idea must come from her own lips and hers alone. “What other choice have I, sweet Row? For months I have kept my desires in check and at bay, but even as winter draws to a close and the sap begins to rise in the trees, so my passions begin to rise once more.”

Rowena swallowed hard. “My daughter is still a child, my lord, and not yet ready for childbearing.”

“She can still be a wife in the fullest sense,” he said with meaning.

“She is not ready for such things, my lord. I fear that you could injure her, though certainly you would not hurt her deliberately, I know. What can I say to you that will convince you not to force this marriage?” Rowena’s pretty face was a mask of motherly concern and fear. She could not help wringing her hands with her worry.

He took one of those hands, and turning it palm up, planted a kiss upon the fragrant flesh. Then their eyes met, even as he said softly, “What other choice have I, sweet Row?”

She knew. She knew what she must do to save her child from what would amount to virtual rape. This, then, was to be her punishment for her lustful and wicked thoughts. She would become Sir Jasper Keane’s whore that Arabella might be spared his
needs
until she was old enough to serve them herself as his wife. So great was Rowena’s shame and her guilt that she could bring herself to say nothing more but one word,
“Tonight,”
before she turned away from him, pulling her hand from his grasp and walking from the hall.

The log in the fireplace cracked and collapsed into a heap of orange coals.

“Masterfully done, my lord,” came the soft hiss of congratulation.

“You move like a cat, Seger,” Jasper Keane said, never turning. “I never know when you are there, but discretion, my friend, is called for in this matter. I do not want the heiress running to her royal cousins, lest I lose this plum.”

“I would not harm your lordship,” Seger replied. “Even I, ignorant wretch that I am, understand the delicacy of the situation. The keep folk love their ladies. It would never do for them to think you were hurting them.”

“Cleverly said, Seger,” Sir Jasper told his man, “but one day, I think, that clever tongue of yours will be your downfall.”

“Until that time I but live to serve your lordship,” Seger answered, and Sir Jasper Keane laughed at his boldness. “I have, in anticipation of your lordship’s direction, already seduced the lady Rowena’s personal serving maid, who lives in terror that her mistress discover her loose ways. You need not fear any indiscretion on her part, my lord,” the captain finished with a toothy grin.

“There is no one like you, Seger,” said his master admiringly.

“No, my lord,” came the agreeable reply.

Blessed Mary!
How her conscience assailed her, but what else could she do, Rowena thought as she went through the familiar routine of her day. She was only a woman. A helpless woman. Dickon and Anne were so far away, and outside the keep a blizzard was raging, and she simply didn’t know what else she could do. It wasn’t as if she were a virgin. She well knew what it was to have a man impale her on his lance. Henry might have been many years her senior, but he had always been a vigorous lover, and she had enjoyed his attentions.
Too much!
Did the church not teach that the sole reason for the coupling of a man and a woman was for the procreation of good Christian children? Nothing was said about pleasure, but it was pleasurable, and she had missed it.

Henry, of course, had been the only man she had ever known. Were men different in their lovemaking? She felt an anticipatory thrill of excitement race down her spine, and she bit her lip with her vexation. She was betraying her own child! What kind of a wretched creature was she that she could look forward to breaking faith with her own daughter? He was so handsome, yet as attracted as she was to him, she would have never allowed him her bed but for their conversation this morning. He had not said it aloud, but she had well understood his meaning. He had intended ravishing Arabella even before their marriage was celebrated, in order to satisfy his manly desires.

Pray God and His blessed Mother that she could please Sir Jasper Keane, that she could sate his lusts. How else could she protect her child? Surely God would forgive her? She would not, however, confess her indiscretion to dear Father Anselm until Arabella was happily wed. How could he understand the position in which she found herself? He would counsel her to seek grace in prayer, and he would lecture Sir Jasper sternly; but Sir Jasper would not listen, Rowena knew. He would force Arabella to his bed, and it could kill her child to have her innocence breached so soon. No. She would bear this burden silently and alone. Was it not, after all, a woman’s lot to bend like the flowers of the field before a wind?