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disgust her, because he had looked at her with far more anger then than desire. And she had said that she would gladly give herself because she had wanted to soothe him.
     
    She could not now deny him when she had freely given her word.
     
    The thought terrified her, more, she thought, because she had dreaded every moment that she had spent doing her ‘wifely’ duty with William. The first few times had been a nightmare of pain, humiliation, and disgust. After a time it had ceased to be painful unless he was bent upon hurting her, but it had still filled her with revulsion and dread.
     
    She could not imagine that there would be a hair’s worth of difference from one man to another--which was at least part of the reason she had already nigh made herself ill with dread--knowing she had no choice but to marry again.
     
    Nightshade was no man, though. He was a beast man, and a monstrous brute at that. He had carried her as effortlessly as if she were no more than a child.
     
    He had ceased William and tossed him from the wall as if he were no more than a child.
     
    Realizing that her train of thought was scaring her worse, she thrust them from her mind, trying to calm herself.
     
    She could not refuse him. She was honor bound to keep her word.
     
    She had endured months of William. Surely, she could endure the beast’s touch once?
     
    Would once appease him, though, she wondered in sudden fear? Or would he, once she allowed it, demand again and again? She could not stop him. She was not certain the king’s army could stop such as one as he.
     
    He seemed to have some sense of honor, though, she reminded herself, some small thread of humanity.
     
    If he came … when he came, she would have his word of honor that he would not trouble her further. She would make him give his word that he would demand no more of her.
     
    She did not know what she would do if he refused to grant her that, but the king’s man would come soon and he would be honor bound to protect her for his king.
     
    She strove for calm acceptance, but as they day waned the little she had managed to gather to herself seeped away with the light. She was tempted, oh so tempted, to gather her women close for protection, because she thought he might not come if the room was filled with women, but she did not know that that would deter him. And in the end, partly because she did not want witnesses to her shame, and partly to protect them, she sent them away.
     
    For hours, it seemed, she lay wakeful, listening to every slightest sound and growing more and more tense, certain with each creaking timber that Nightshade had come. She was not aware that she had dozed, but apparently she had. For, one moment she was alone in her chamber and the next he stood before the hearth, watching her as he had before when she had been so ill.
     
    Everything in her froze when she saw him, limned in the flickering light of the fire and the golden glow of the single candle that had been left burning. She had not been able to remember him clearly, she realized, because she had not really seen him. She had been cocooned by her pain, illness, and shock before. She had not suspected that it was a creature of dark magic that had helped her. She had believed he was a man and that was all she had seen.
     
    He was naked. For many moments that was all that she perceived--naked flesh, long ropy muscles, hard bulging muscle--bare skin. Her mind virtually shut down for several moments, unable to process what her eyes beheld. After what seemed an eon, he blinked, and turned his head away and it broke the spell that held her frozen.
     
    He had not been clothed before, she realized abruptly. What she did remember of that night was being held against warm flesh.
     
    He had reached the window before it dawned upon her that he was leaving. Instantly, relief flooded her. He was leaving. He would not demand what he had before.
     
    Without understanding the impulse that drove her, she