Chapter Fourteen

Call that a handfasting ceremony! It was shifty and shameful, nought but that ruffian Randel in attendance and Jasper, with a face like thunder. When the priest had bound their hands, Rowenna’s pride had recoiled so much she had nearly torn off the rope, jerking her hands free of Jasper’s. But he held them fast.

So now, they were joined and alone in a chamber with night falling. Jasper had locked the door, so it was too late to run. And it seemed the servants had been busy. There was a roaring fire, a pile of furs slung before it, a bottle of whisky and a platter of food. It was everything a couple would need for a romantic night of seduction. But she was no joyous bride fizzing with anticipation, more like an animal in a trap. Dear God, she hoped he would not make her lie down with him in front of the fire with the flames to light her degradation. Better to be in the bed, in darkness, under the covers. Rowenna wanted to jam her eyes shut so that she would not have to look at Jasper.

Lie still and bear it. Get it over with. That was the plan.

Jasper leant against the door with his arms folded, watching her. Rowenna could not take her eyes off his face – a marriage of beauty and brutality, with its slightly crooked nose and pale scar lines. The one on his mouth drew her attention time and again. Was it because she was always looking at his mouth? He was clean-shaven for the occasion and had tied back his hair, making him more severe but less of a ruffian.

‘Stop looking so fearful, lass. I don’t bite. Well, not unless you ask me to.’ He grinned and pushed off the door with easy grace for such a burly man. ‘I have something for you, bonnie lass,’ he said.

‘I’m sure you do,’ said Rowenna, inadvertently glancing at his groin.

He burst out laughing. ‘No, not that. Here.’ Jasper reached into his pocket and took out a velvet pouch. ‘Take it. My wedding gift to you.’

Rowenna approached gingerly and reached out a hand. The pouch was heavy, and she opened it to reveal a gold, heart-shaped pendant surrounded by little pearls and, at its centre, an amethyst. Its colour reminded her of the heather blanketing the moors in spring. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, and Rowenna could not help but blurt out, ‘Oh, it is exquisite.’

‘So are you,’ said Jasper in his deep, dark voice, heavy with lust. His blue eyes were blazing in their intensity.

He was trying to buy her. ‘It must have cost a pretty penny. Is this what my virtue is worth? I told you I would not sell myself for trinkets.’ She held out the pendant for him to take back.

Jasper frowned, and a shadow of hurt crossed his face, and then anger twitched along his jaw. ‘It is a wedding gift, that is all. And you’ve no need to sell yourself because your father did a good enough job of that.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I gave him money to sway his hand. He needed it. The man has many debtors beating down his door, not just me.’

‘That is despicable.’

Of him, maybe, but not me. I would have paid whatever he asked because I want you, lass. Is that so terrible?' He took her hands in his. ‘I can be a refuge from your verminous family who seek to use you.’

‘You are using me too.’

‘Ah, but I am also raising you up, giving you safety and wealth. In return, is it so terrible that I ask you to share my bed?’ His words were persuasive and gently said, but there was a ruthless determination behind them.

‘And if I refuse to lie down with you, Jasper, will you pummel me with your fists as you did with Bran?’

‘It won’t come to that, though I want you so hard, it is an effort to hold back. But Rowenna, if you trust me this night, I will try. I will take you slowly and gently and not hurt you beyond what is necessary to consummate this marriage. If you let me, I can make your body sing.’

It was a bald statement of intent, far too direct, shattering her fragile resolve. ‘Do not speak so, please.’

Jasper held onto her hands tightly. ‘I want you as a man wants a woman. I will not hide it or dress it up as anything to do with love. I will not lie, and nor should you. Do not ever tell me what I want to hear, Rowenna MacCreadie. It is all I ask of you, so you must swear it.’

Looked at coldly, he was right. Was he asking that much of her? Was he asking more than any other man on his wedding night? There was no escape from this castle, this room or this man.

‘I will swear it.’ She took a deep breath, looking up at him, and for the first time, she noticed his lashes were darker than his hair. ‘And I am Rowenna Glendenning now.’

‘Aye, God save us, you are,’ he breathed, steering her over to the bed.

Rowenna’s legs turned to jelly. The side of the bed hit the back of her knees as Jasper tilted her chin up and kissed her. It was a greedy, lustful kiss, though gentle enough, and sent a surge of pleasure to her belly. Jasper may be awful, but she liked him kissing her. A small moan escaped her lips – part guilt and part pleasure. That seemed to encourage Jasper. He swung her around, took her against him around the waist and swept her hair up into one hand. She felt him press his face to it and inhale its scent like the wolf he was. His arousal was evident, digging into her back. Jasper swept Rowenna’s hair over her shoulder and began to undo her stays with deft hands.

‘Best just to lie there and let him do as he will. That way, the ordeal will be over sooner.’

Osla’s words were no comfort as her bodice fell away, followed quickly by her skirts, hitting the floor with a sigh. Her heart was hammering so hard that Rowenna thought Jasper might be able to hear it. He buried his head in the nape of her neck and kissed it, the rub of his stubble raising goosebumps on her skin and stoking a fire deep in her belly.

‘Jasper, please don’t.’

His hands roamed up to her breasts, the palms hot through the thin fabric of her shift, raising her nipples to hard nubs.

‘Why not?’ he breathed.

‘I…I am not ready.’

He sank his teeth gently into her flesh, making her shudder. ‘Gather your courage, lass, or you will never be ready.’

Flashes of desire shot down Rowenna’s belly as he continued to nuzzle her neck and stroke her. It was as if she was melting from the inside out, and when his hand roamed lower and pressed between her legs, she could not contain a little cry. He grunted into her neck in response, and his fingers worked on her through her shift, sliding over her as her body betrayed her and became slippery with wanting him. Rowenna throbbed with pleasure, wanting to push back against his hand.

How could this be? How could she want to be manhandled like this by Jasper Glendenning? Could you hate and want someone at the same time? She could not let him win. But for once in her life, Rowenna could not think. She could only feel.

Jasper suddenly spun her around and hoisted her onto the bed on her back. The blankets were cold, and her legs hung over the side. He quickly shed his fine kilt and began to take his shirt off over his head. Rowenna looked away from him. Then he was on her, heavy and horribly naked. There was too much skin, too much man. Rowenna caught a glimpse of golden chest hair, a flat stomach taut with muscle and a thatch of darker hair further down. She quickly looked up at his face. Jasper’s eyes held a raw determination as he took hold of her leg and slid it over his back.

‘Can we not get under the linens?’ she squeaked.

‘No. I want to see you.’ His voice was all authority now, no longer coaxing and gentle. There was something of the beast in him. Rowenna trembled as he slowly pulled her shift down off her shoulders.

‘By all that is holy, you are so beautiful, lass.’ Jasper trailed his fingers from her throat down to her breasts. His hands were rough, but his caresses were careful and almost tender. When he bent his mouth to her nipples, they felt raw with pleasure, sending an ache to her loins.

He was taking his time to arouse her, but Rowenna wished he would not, for that would be the ultimate surrender for her and a victory for him. His tongue flicked inside her mouth, as hot as a forge, bringing a sinful tickle of desire. Why could he not be the brute she first thought him – rough and cruel? It would be so much easier than this shameful throb, this need for him to go further.

Rowenna shut her eyes and tried to ignore the desire burning between her legs. When Jasper stroked his fingers in her most intimate place, she flinched and had to fight the urge to push against his hand.

‘Jasper, please,’ she gasped, reaching out a hand to clutch the blankets and finding the handle of the dirk under the pillow. It brought her to her senses.

‘Stop,’ she cried.

‘I don’t think you want me to stop, do you?’ he panted into her ear, but his fingers stopped moving.

In answer, Rowenna slipped the dirk out from under the pillow and held it to Jasper’s throat. The tip pricked his skin, and he froze, leaving his hand in place.

‘I will do it. I swear. What have I got to lose? One thrust and it will all be over.’

‘I know, and if you let me get on with it, then it will be,’ he said, smiling down at her with no fear, mocking her. There was triumph in his eyes.

‘You will not master me, Jasper.’

‘I think it is the other way around, Rowenna. And is your virginity worth my life? Why kill a man who burns for you? ‘Tis no terrible thing to lie with me, you know. Let me show you.’ His fingers moved against again, her sending hot throbs of lust through her belly.

‘No.’

‘Stop and think, lass. If you kill me, my men will ride to Fallstairs and burn it to the ground, along with everyone in it. I mean to have you this night, so do your worst, Rowenna, if you hate me that much. I don’t doubt you have the courage.’

He pushed down against the blade. A tiny bead of blood swelled from his skin like a tick, burst, and ran down his neck. ‘You lit a fire in my belly, lass. I can no more stop than you can.’ His voice was hoarse with desire as he kept on touching her. Having her was nothing to him. It was everything to her – pride, freedom, honour.

‘I don’t want you, Jasper,’ she said weakly.

‘Are you sure?’ he murmured. ‘One little sting for each of us, and we will be joined. Then you will be safe from all those old lechers and dull men, and no one can touch you but me.’

Jasper pressed against the blade, never taking his eyes off her, and there was such longing in his gaze that her resolve faded away, and Rowenna softened her grip and let his mouth reach hers. His hand closed around hers and gently pulled the knife away from his throat. Suddenly, as he deepened his kiss, the strength seeped from her fingers, and the dirk clattered to the floor.

Jasper slid his fingers into her hair. ‘Trust me, Rowenna,’ he said, pulling up her shift and sliding his hand along her thigh. A hot, boneless surge of pleasure swept from Rowenna’s heart to her groin. Her throat tightened, and blood rushed to her face, setting it aflame. She was slick down there and so ashamed. There was nothing to do but surrender.

‘Ah, lass, you are more than ready,’ he said. As his fingers slid inside her a little, Rowenna squeezed her eyes shut.

‘Look at me,’ he commanded, and she opened her eyes. Jasper held her gaze as he invaded her gently, stroking her as he did so with his thumb. ‘Have you never had a man?’ he said.

‘No,’ she whispered, barely able to breathe.

‘It wouldn’t matter to me if you had. I’d not judge you for it.’ He smiled down at her. ‘Though I might have to find him and kill him.’

In all her life, Rowenna had never felt so helpless. And it was not because he was heavy and huge on top of her or because he held threats over her head. It was because she was a slave to the passion Jasper had aroused. She wanted more. She wanted him to keep touching her in this gentle, insistent way – coaxing and yet commanding.

He took Rowenna’s hand and edged it downwards to his groin, smiling into her eyes. ‘Hold onto this instead of your dirk, lass. It’s not as dangerous.’ He had a pleasing face when he smiled, warm and handsome. He wrapped her fingers about his manhood and let out a sigh of such yearning that it was an admission of weakness. The thing was velvety, heavy, and solid as an oak. It seemed to grow under Rowenna’s touch as if it had a life of its own, separate from Jasper. She dare not look at it and jerked her hand away.

‘Rowenna, it makes me hard just looking at you. Do not fear this. Let go,’ he crooned. ‘If you want me to stop, I will. If it hurts too much, then tell me.

She hated Jasper Glendenning. Rowenna closed her eyes tight as he leaned into her neck, muffling a moan of what must be pleasure into her hair. She hated him as he spread her legs open with his knee, still touching her, making her ache with feeling. She hated him as he placed his manhood against her most secret place and took her mouth in a deep, passionate kiss. When he slid inside her, filling her, Rowenna gasped from the shock of it and held onto his back, digging in her fingers. Jasper made a strange, guttural sound, but it washed over her as all she could feel was him inside her – a stinging, yet somehow gentle invasion, a blade of pleasure that cauterised as it moved.

Jasper rocked against her belly, and Rowenna kept her eyes on a beam in the ceiling, willing herself not to think or feel anything – but she did. When the pain receded a little, there was something lurking in her belly, creeping out of its hiding place, a treacherous, evil need. Was she this weak? Could a man she had every reason to loathe just touch her and bring on this raw feeling between pleasure and pain?

‘You belong to me now,’ Jasper whispered into her ear.

A tear swelled from her eye, leaving a cold trail down her face. It trickled into the cleft where his cheek was pressed to hers.

Jasper stopped moving and raised himself onto his elbows. He stared down into her face as another tear fell. Then he rolled off her body with a curse and lay on his back with his forearm over his eyes. His hand was a tight fist. ‘Damn you to hell, Rowenna MacCreadie, and damn me for ever having noticed you,’ he hissed.

For the longest time, there was no sound in the chamber save their breathing. Though she could not look at Jasper, Rowenna sensed waves of anger and frustration coming from him. Would he send her back to her father now that she had disappointed him, as she always knew she would? Did she even want to go back?

Jasper sat up, showing his broad, smooth back to her, muscles bulging from his sides, heaving with anger. ‘I’ll not take a crying woman. Not now, not ever,’ he said. ‘It seems you have sniffed out my only scrap of honour.’

Rowenna sat up and scuttled away from him, pulling up her shift to hide her nakedness.

‘I thought you were ready, Rowenna. Do you know what it is for a man to stop once his blood is up? Do you know what you have cost me in pride this night?’

‘No.’ Her voice was a squeak, and then she remembered Morag’s words about not being bullied. ‘I don’t know much, Jasper, but I know this. I am in a stranger’s home, in a stranger’s bed, and nothing in my life has prepared me for that thing you just did. I am sorry if I am a disappointment and if I don’t cry your name and beg you to dishonour me. I am sorry if I am not good enough, if I am less than Brenna Bannerman, and I am sorry if you….

He turned and grabbed hold of her arm, pulling her to him. ‘That is the trouble, Don’t you see?’ He shook her. ‘You are not less than her. I want you. It is a burn in my soul, and I hate it. My desire is a curse, and it has brought me so low that I would beg for you to want me back.’ He raked his fingers through his hair. ‘Rowenna, if a man has no pride, he has nothing.’

‘And what of my pride? I am just a poor substitute for a woman who would not love you and a wife who died. I can never be anything but a shadow in your heart compared to them.’

‘No,’ he said softly. “I wish that were true.’ He stroked his hand gently down her cheek.

‘I do not believe you, Jasper.’

He let go of her, his face stricken. ‘And why should you, lass? But here is the truth of it. Brenna Bannerman never wanted me, and I humiliated myself chasing her heart. Does it please you to hear that?’

She shook her head.

‘I have long since learned from that folly and put it behind me. If anyone else in Kransmuir mentioned her name, I would have knocked them flat, but I will give you this one more time to do so, seeing as it is our wedding night, and you deserve the truth. As for Isobel, she was as cold as the winter wind scouring the moors the first time I took her to bed and the last, so there is no ghost to compete with, Rowenna. And it’s not as if you seek to win my heart. All I want is your obedience and for an heir to come, and all you want is to clear a debt and save your worthless brother.’

It was such a burst of feeling from Jasper that Rowenna was afraid of him and stayed silent, hoping the storm would pass over her. She was utterly at this man’s mercy. He could strangle her in his bed with no consequences. Such was his power.

Jasper rose, donned his shirt, and went over to the fire. ‘Go to sleep. I’ll not lay a hand on you this night or any other. I will lie down on the furs. You are safe from my unholy appetites, for your tears have struck them down.’

With these bitter words, Jasper lay down. In the half-light of the fire, covered in furs, he seemed like a dead beast, and Rowenna waited a good while, every nerve on edge, before she scurried under the covers and rolled her knees up to her chest. She should not have quarrelled with him. Any sensible woman would have endured his attentions and stayed on his good side. But that was the problem. She had not endured. She had enjoyed it. Her body had betrayed her, and for that, she hated herself.

Jasper could have been rough, but he wasn’t. He could have forced her to do her duty by him, but he had not. She had no idea why, and she was beginning to realise that she did not understand Jasper Glendenning at all. Folk said he was a ruthless monster - violent, impulsive, cruel. But he had been gentle and patient so far. How long that patience would last, she did not know. And there was more mortification than that. If she had no feelings for Jasper, then why was her belly curdling with bitter jealousy over an old love and a dead one?

Damn. It was so much easier to hate Jasper than to see that glimmer of vulnerability in his soul. It made her want to reach out in the darkness, find his hand and hold it.