The Flower And The Sword

“She cannot find me here with you!” Lily whispered.

“Lily, calm down. You’ve done nothing wrong,” Rogan urged.

“There you are!” Catherine called. Lily whirled around to find her sister standing only a few feet away. In an instant, Catherine’s eyes flickered over her, then darted to Rogan.

As if smelling Lily’s fear, her nostrils flared and her eyes narrowed. “What are you doing out here? You are supposed to be in the solar. Get back at once.”

Flushed and confused, Lily looked from one to the other. She pressed her hands to her face, backwheeling before turning to run into the keep.

Rogan watched Catherine glare after her younger sister, witnessing the unveiled moment of pure malice before she composed her face and turned back to him.

“Has my sister been bothering you, Lord Rogan?” she said smoothly. “I swear, I despair of her sometimes. She is such a child, and a bit unruly. I must speak to Father about her. We cannot have her pestering our guests in this manner.”

Rogan shrugged. “Lily was not bothering me. Do not trouble yourself.” As he made to brush past her, he said, “If you will excuse me—”

“Lord Rogan!” Catherine interrupted. “There is something I wish to discuss with you. I have been thinking on your family’s debt to me.”

Rogan stopped and turned slowly. “Debt? I am not aware we owed you any debt. No money had exchanged hands.”

“I was thinking more of a debt of decency,” she explained. “On account of my having been so mistreated by your brother.”

“I thought that issue was settled,” Rogan said tightly.

“My father and I were counting on the marriage to the duke. You cannot know what humiliation this has caused me. We had told our friends. When they learn of what has happened, there will be great scandal. I feel it is very unfair for my reputation to be stained so, especially when I have done nothing to deserve it.”

Rogan watched her carefully Instincts told him that. under the carefully groomed exterior, Catherine was as crafty as a fox. There was a vague threat here, one that did not escape his notice.

“I would think that your family would wish to make amends,” she said.

“That is why I am here. My brother’s choice of wife is as unfortunate for us as it is for you. I have no more love of scandal than you, Lady Catherine.”

She lowered her lashes. A calculated gesture, he was sure. An airy sigh issued from her ruby-red lips. “I know this has been difficult for you. I can see how much you desire to avoid ill feelings between your family and ours. My father sees it, as well. Yet, the matter still remains the same.”

Although he was irritated, Rogan forced himself to be calm. “Yes, it is true. You have been wronged, lady, and nothing I can do will change that.”

Her eyes sparkled at his kind words. Her posture changed, losing its rigidity and a beguiling smile appeared. “I am pleased you accepted my father’s invitation to stay,” she said.

Rogan nodded. “Yes, for a while.”

The smile deepened, but her eyes remained cold. “That is most gratifying. I think you shall enjoy our hospitality.”

“You have already been most gracious.” The compliment almost stuck in his throat. Remembering Andrew’s tactics the previous day, he added, “You have much cause for insult, no one would argue with that, but you have responded quite generously. I hope my family will be able to remain in your charitable esteem.”

She inclined her head at the praise. Rogan fought his irritation at this regal gesture.

“We shall see you at supper, then,” she said. “Father has planned some diverting entertainments. Good day, Lord Rogan.”

When she was gone, Rogan raked his hand viciously through his hair. What was she about? She had reminded him of the injustice done her, a way to hold sway over him because of it She wanted something, but he could not yet see what it was. Puzzled, Rogan mulled it over.

Damnation! he swore silently. The delicacy of this situation strained his meager skills at subtlety and intrigue, and rankled his pride. Andrew was right—Alexander should be here to prostrate himself for Marshand’s pardon. The mental image of his arrogant elder brother in such a state made him smile, then he shrugged off his resentment

It was done. And after all, it had occasioned him to meet the Lady Lily. He could never be sorry about that.

Catherine was aware of Rogan’s growing fondness for her sister, and it did not please her.

Very soon after Rogan’s arrival, Catherine’s cunning mind had begun to formulate a plan. At first, it was merely for retribution, but as it took shape and grew in proportion, Catherine knew she must have Rogan for her own.

Oh, he was marvelous. He was like no other male she had ever encountered, and she wanted him with a desire she had never before known. But she was not about to settle just for a second son, no matter how magnificent the man. And she knew of a way she would not have to settle at all. She could get everything that she wanted. Everything she had a right to. A rich, handsome husband. And the duchy.

After all, accidents happened all the time, didn’t they? Even to the Duke of Windemere. Misfortune could easily befall Alexander, leaving Rogan to inherit the title.

It would be relatively simple to arrange. As for the wife, the cherished little merchant’s daughter, she would be no obstacle. And if she were with child already, so much the better. Countless women and their infants were lost during a difficult birthing.

Oh, it was a lovely plan. And it would work.

Pausing by the looking glass in her chamber, she stared at her reflection. What in the world could the man see in stupid little Lily? Was she, Catherine, not the greater beauty? It was she, not Lily, who deserved Rogan. She had always known she was destined for greatness. Even as a child. Her mother had tried to dissuade her of her superiority, but she had only made Catherine hate and pity the foolish woman’s lack of insight. When she had died, it was a relief. Without a moment of grief, Catherine had easily assumed her mother’s position in the family and went to work, preying on her father to secure her a future worthy of her.

She would not allow herself to be cheated of it now.

Her door opened and a dark-haired man slipped into her chamber. Catherine did not turn around. He came up behind her, slipping her arms about her waist and pulling her stiff body up against his.

“Ah, you are so tense, ma chérie,” he whispered into her ear. Annoyed, Catherine turned away, but he pulled her back roughly. He chuckled. “You are in a mood. Does Phillippe not know how to soothe you when you are like this?”

Despite his smooth words, his hand crudely slipped between her legs. Catherine stiffened but did not push him away.

“You called for me,” Phillippe purred. “You need me tonight.”

His hand began to move in a rhythmic motion, and gradually Catherine relaxed against him. “Ah, that is good to relieve what is on your mind.”

“Shut up and take off your clothes,” Catherine snapped. She tugged off her own dress, carelessly casting aside the expensive garment and her costly jewels. She stood by the fire and watched Phillippe come to her. When he took her in his arms, she closed her eyes. Instead of his swarthy complexion, she envisioned a more bronze tone. Broader shoulders, thicker arms, hair a rich russet and eyes the haunting gray of the wolf. Tonight she would let Phillippe bring her body relief, but in her mind it would be Rogan making love to her.

Enguerrand Marshand was not a stupid man. He had many faults, and to his credit he was even aware of most of them, but lack of mental acuity was not one. Thus, he was well aware of his eldest daughter’s calculating nature. In fact, he quite approved of it most of the time. She took after him in many regards, and he liked to think that her shrewdness was one of them.

He was also aware of her cruelty, but he preferred to think of it as more a lack of sensitivity. That quality he did not lay claim to. He did not approve of it, but he accepted it as part of Catherine. No one was perfect, after all.

Pride was taken in the sweet blessing of Elspeth. Another man might resent the third of a trio of daughters most of all; the last chance at a son and heir gone. But Enguerrand doted on his youngest. She was an extraordinary child, had been since birth. Serene, with a wisdom beyond her years yet ever innocent, he cherished her. As much as he loved her, he could not bear to grant her only wish. To send Elspeth to the convent would be to lose the only joy in his life.

As for Lily, he gave his middle daughter little thought. She had always been stubbornly independent, not anything like his beloved Elspeth. Nor was she cunning like himself, like Catherine. She was more like his wife, whom he had married in accordance with his parents’ wishes and never understood. So, he had mostly left Lily alone, trusting Catherine to see to her rearing, and never really giving her much thought.

Which was why he was so surprised when Rogan asked to marry her.

Catherine wanted him. She had come to him and said she would take Rogan as husband. Knowing well the machinations of his daughter’s nimble mind, he sensed that she had strong reasons for wanting the match, and so he had agreed.

What he had never considered was that Rogan would not want Catherine. When Enguerrand broached the subject, Rogan simply said, “I must decline.”

Enguerrand pressed him for an explanation, but the man only shrugged, offering only that Catherine was not to his liking.

Enguerrand grew irate. “You insult me, St. Cyr. Your brother deals dirty with me, now you refuse to make the matter right. Good God, you had the gall to best the Dane. Do you not even have the decency to lose to your host’s champion?”