Medieval 01 - Untamed

Look at you—cheeks all flushed and eyes glowing, and your clothes hung with bits of forest litter.”
    â€œMy cheeks are flushed and my clothes are dirty because I’ve been all but standing on my head gathering my plants!”
    â€œMaybe. And maybe you are a maid recently tumbled.”
    â€œNay!”
    â€œDid Duncan think that once I’d had you, I wouldn’t know if he had you as well? Does he hope to foist off a bastard on me as your mother did on John?” Dominic continued relentlessly.
    Meg’s head came up proudly. “I give you my vow, husband. I have been with no man.”
    â€œSo you say, wife.”
    â€œLie down with me,” she said rashly. “Here and now, Dominic le Sabre. You will find you are the first.”
    The cold slash of her husband’s smile didn’t reassure Meg.
    â€œWell played, Lady Margaret,” he said softly.
    â€œI’m not playing!”
    â€œNeither am I. If I lie with you and find you’re not a maid, and if you quicken, I wouldn’t know who was the father, would I?”
    Meg was too taken aback to respond.
    â€œNo, my clever little wife, I’ll not lie with you until you have bled. Then I will keep you quite close. When you quicken, there will be no doubt as to whose son you bear.”
    Understanding came to Meg like a blow.
    â€œYou truly don’t care if I’m maid or wanton,” she whispered, appalled. “You care only that you have a son of me.”
    â€œAye. But if you were a whore before this moment, your whoring days are at an end.”
    â€œI could be a liar, a cheat, a robber, a felon…none of it matters to you. One womb serves as well as another, so long as it comes with Blackthorne Keep.”
    Dominic’s eyes narrowed to icy splinters.
    â€œBelieve me, madam, whatever you were in the past, I will expect you to set an example of great rectitude as my wife. You will sore regret any dishonor you bring to my name.”
    The stubborn tendril of hope that Meg had harbored in her soul slowly withered under the wintry reality of Dominic le Sabre. He was not the Norman devil Eadith had named him, nor was he the generous heart she had dreamed might live beneath his chain mail trappings. He wanted neither her laughter nor her tenderness. Nor was he curious about her hopes and her dreams and her hunger to build a better life for her people—and for herself, that she might not taste the same bitter dregs of marriage that her mother had.
    Dominic le Sabre was simply a man, as John of Cumbriland had been a man. And when thwarted in his drive for dynasty, Dominic would sour as John had.
    The bleak shadows she had sensed in Dominic’s soul were as real as a winter night and far more lasting. They would freeze her life as surely as they had frozen him.
    A silent cry of protest for what might have been twisted through Meg, but no sound escaped her lips.
    When Dominic spoke her name again, sharply, Glendruid eyes looked right through him. Silently Meg measured the spring that was slowly overtaking the land in a celebration of life that she wouldn’t share.
    â€œSuch an old face for such a young girl,” Dominic said angrily. “Is it that much a hardship to give up your immoral ways?”
    Meg said nothing. She had no heart to speak, much less to be mocked for her feelings by a man who had none.
    â€œI will make you a bargain,” he said in a frigid voice. “Give me two sons and I will send you to London. There you will certainly find entertainment that pleases your wanton tastes.”
    Barely withheld tears made Meg’s eyes huge. “You know nothing of what pleases or displeases me.”
    â€œI know that last night you refused your husband what is his by right,” Dominic retorted savagely.
    â€œI have known all my life that it was my duty to marry whatever man was chosen for me,” Meg said as though Dominic hadn’t spoken. “I have known that I would be a loyal, dutiful wife. I have known that I would be capable of so much more if I was well matched in my husband. And now…”
    Her voice faded into aching silence.
    â€œAnd now?” Dominic said. “Speak.”
    â€œI know that it will never be,” Meg whispered. “Spring has come, but there will be no spring for Glendruid or for me.”
    â€œForget your pining after Duncan,” Dominic said harshly.
    â€œDuncan? What—”
    â€œYou are