manner of man he was, had heard of his reputation for exacting utter destruction

  on anyone so unwise as to encroach on what was his. That he had never sought

  revenge on a woman before mattered not. He had only needed to decide what would

  be an appropriate retaliation for one of her sex, and he had had ample time to

  do that while he had searched for Isabella.

  That had been a fruitless endeavor. When one of his messengers had returned to

  tell him that his future bride had not arrived at Fulkhurst, he had been

  thankful for a reason to delay his own arrival there. But searching for her had

  been an effort in frustration. There were simply too many different routes she

  could have taken along the way to Fulkhurst. Finally, he had left the matter of

  finding her to her father, who was certainly more upset by her disappearance

  than he was himself. And that had annoyed him, too, that it was more thoughts of

  this wench here that had plagued him the whole while, when he should have been

  concerned only with his missing bride.

  She sighed, and Warrick?s breath held, waiting, willing her to open those large

  sapphire eyes. Her lips were parted. He remembered the lushness of them,

  remembered the hot feel of them against his skin whenever she had had to work

  harder at coaxing his body?s response. Her flaxen tresses were in two thick

  braids, one beneath her, the other curled across her breasts. He remembered

  those breasts, full and tempting, but never his to touch or taste, revealed to

  him only to inflame his senses, to aid in his defeat. He had them to touch now,

  and it was all he could do not to rip her gown open. But not yet. Not yet. She

  had to be fully aware of everything he did to her, just as he had been

  agonizingly aware of everything she had done to him.

  She stretched, making a soft sound in her throat, then stilled, except for her

  hand. He watched the fingers of the hand that rested on the chains feel the cold

  iron links, watched the frown that creased her brow as she wondered what it was.

  ?A souvenir/? he explained.

  ?From Kirkburough.?

  Her eyes flew open, enormous eyes dominating her small oval face. She made

  another sound, as if she were strangling. Her fear was palpable, but it was too

  much, more like utter terror. He would be furious if she fainted again.

  Rowena wished she could. God?s mercy, no wonder she had spent these weeks in a

  dungeon. It had naught to do with her properties. She was going to die, but not

  by mere deprivation as she had thought. She remembered this man?s hatred and

  knew he would probably torture her to death. She knew now why he had fought so

  violently against her rape of him. He was no villein to be in awe of her, but a

  powerful warlord, a man no one would dare treat as they had done. And Gilbert,

  that utter, utter fool, had not even known he had captured his worst enemy. Like

  as not Fulkhurst did not know who she was, either, or that it was his own worst

  enemy who had captured him.

  A laugh bubbled up in her throat. She could not stop it. If she had not already

  lost her mind, she soon would. And he just stood there beside the bed, frowning

  down at her. Had she thought him handsome? A delusion. That mouth, those

  chilling eyeshe was a living nightmare, her nightmare, a man who defined cruelty

  with every line of his face.

  She began to shake in reaction. He swore foully and brought his hand to her

  throat with firm pressure. Her eyes flared even wider.

  ?Do you faint again, I will beat you he growled.

  Was that supposed to reassure her? But he released her and moved away from the

  bed. In self preservation she watched him, but he only went to the cold hearth

  and stood there staring down at it.

  From behind, he was not a monster, just a man. His dark gold hair was not really

  curly, yet it curled at his neck. It looked soft, though she had never dared to

  bring her hand that close to his face to touch it. His body was still appealing

  to the eye. She had known he would be tall, just not this tall. And he held

  himself so taut with emotion now, the tunic pulled tight across his broad back

  and shoulders.

  Minutes passed, then more minutes, and he did not turn to look her way. Rowena

  stopped shaking and took several deep breaths. Her torture would not begin yet,

  not here in his solar. He had brought her here likely only to frighten herand to

  gloat. The captive was now the captor.

  ?Have you calmed yourself, wench??

  Calm? Would she ever know that state again? But she nodded, then realized he

  could not see it, for he had not looked at her to speak.

  ?Aye.?

  ?Though ?tis my right to do so, I do not mean to kill you.?

  Rowena had not realized she had held herself as stiffly as he until she sagged

  into the mattress with her relief. Under the circumstances, she would never have

  believed she could be so fortunate, nor would she have thought him to be

  merciful enough to tell her. He could have left her with her terror. He could

  have? but he was not finished.

  ?You will be punished. Doubt it not. But my retaliation will be in kindlike for

  like.?

  He turned then to see her reaction, but he saw only incomprehension, so he

  explained.

  ?As you and your brother intended to take my life if I had not escaped, yours

  now belongs to me, and I find it of little value. As I was treated, so will you

  be. You have had a reprieve only because I wanted to know first how great was

  your guilt, if you had succeeded in your theft. We both know that you have. So

  as you took the child from my flesh, so will it be taken from you when it is

  born.?

  ?No,? she said quietly.

  ?No!?? he exploded incredulously.

  ?Possession is nine tenths?

  ?We do not speak of properties! Tis flesh of my flesh you stole!?

  God?s mercy, how had she dared defy him and tempt him to this level of rage? He

  was livid with it, a mere inch from coming after her and breaking her in two.

  But she could not let him include the child in his vengeance.

  She continued softly, praying he would see reason.

  ?I hold it, I will bear it, and I want it for itself, for no other reason than

  it will be mine.?

  ?Never will that child be yours. You will be no more than a vessel to succor it

  till it is born.?

  He did not shout that, nay, he said it too coldly.

  ?Why do you want it?? she cried.

  ?It will be no more than a bastard to you. Have you not enough of those to

  satisfy you??

  ?What is mine is minejust as you are now mine to do with as I will. Argue with

  me no more, wench, or you will immediately regret it.?

  That was a promise she could not ignore. She had pushed him too far, had dared

  much more than was wise at this point. She might know the man intimately, yet

  she knew him not at all. But time would tell, and she had time now. He had

  allowed her that, allowed her her life. The issue would definitely be raised

  again, however, for ?twas too important to her to let it be. But she could wait

  until she had more hope of winning. She left his bed to stand beside it. She was

  surprised that she had even been put on it, as despised as she
was. And he had

  every right to despise her. She wished she could not see his side of it, but she

  did. She wished he could see her side of it, but he would not. Twould not matter

  to him that she was sorry for what she had done, that she had not wanted to do

  it. She had still done it. Verily, she deserved whatever retribution he demanded.

  And to be fair, she did not deserve the child either, not if he considered it

  stolen from him, as he had said, onlyshe could not be fair where the child was

  concerned. She was becoming tense again under his chilling regard, but finally

  he said with sneering contempt ?It should not surprise me that you lack

  intelligence, considering the plan you devised to keep Kirkbur?

  ? Twas Gilbert?s plan, not mine. He wanted it, not me.?

  ?You still display naught but stupidity. Never interrupt me again, wench. And

  never mention to me again an excuse for what you did. Your Gilbert was not the

  one who came to me and forced me?

  He was too angry to finish. Rowena became alarmed once more as his skin darkened

  in hue.

  ?I am sorry!? she blurted out, knowing it was inadequate, yet knowing not what

  else to say.

  ?Sorry? You will be much sorrier, I promise you. But you may begin appeasing my

  outrage now. I hardly recognize you in clothes, wench. Remove them.?

  Chapter 16

  Rowena?s breath had stopped completely. Her eyes closed in dread. Fulkhurst had

  said like for like. She had known that meant he would force her as she had

  forced him. And ?twould be no more pleasant for her than it had been then, which

  was no more than it should be. But why would he choose this way to punish her

  when he hated her so, could not really want to touch her? But of course, the

  revenge was more important to him. Already she understood that about his nature.

  But to have to remove her clothes for him?

  ?If I must assist you??

  Another threat of she knew not what, but she did know she did not want to find

  out.

  ?Nay, I will do it,? she said in an abject whis per She turned around to untie

  her embroidered girdle, but in a few steps he was behind her, his hand gripping

  her shoulder painfully as he swung her back around. Whatever she had done wrong,

  his anger was high again. But he did not make her wonder why.

  ?You know I need the sight of you disrobing to wet my appetite. Tis why you

  stripped for me before. Whoever advised you, wench, advised you well. But know

  this. If I cannot accomplish what I intend through lack of interest in what you

  have to offer, you will have the blame for it. But you will not have another

  reprieve if that is what you think, because what I cannot do, I will bring in

  another to donay, ten others. I doubt you will disgust them as you do me.?

  Rowena met his eyes as he stepped back and wished to God she knew if he really

  meant that, or if it was just an idle threat. He looked cruel enough to do it.

  He looked angry enough to do it. But he wanted like for like, and watching her

  being raped by others would not be the same. Would it?

  She dropped her girdle on the floor and reached quickly for the laces on the

  side of her bliaut. She could not take chances with him, not with such

  terrifying consequences. But she tried to remember Mildred?s advice and could

  not recall a single thing. The chamber was too bright with daylight, her skin

  too hot with embarrassment, her fingers too clumsy. She knew she was not the

  least bit enticing.

  Warrick?s blood was already raging for her. Her fear was exciting him, that was

  all. Not that becoming flush to her cheeks. Not her virginlike demeanor.

  Certainly not the small though exquisitely curved body he remembered, and which

  was about to be revealed to him again. He realized, with chagrin, that he could

  not continue to watch her, or he would not be able to do all that he had planned

  to do.

  With a silent oath, he moved to the other side of the bed and picked up the

  chain. He had meant to make her stretch it out beneath the bed and position it

  as he directed, just to increase her trepidation, but he did it himself now for

  the distraction. Only it did not take long, not as long as it was taking her to

  disrobe.

  Her red outer gown was on the floor, her longsleeved chemise on top of it. But

  she still wort a thin linen shift, though her fingers were grip ping the hem,

  had been in the process of lifting it over her head, when she finally noticed

  what he was doing.

  ?Please, no,? she pleaded, looking from the manacle still in his hand to his

  cold eyes.

  ?I will not fight you. I swear it.?

  He did not even hesitate in his implacable re ply.

  ?It will be the same, exactly the same.?

  Rowena stared at the chains he had brought up on the outside of the posts at the

  end of the bed, positioned so the posts would prevent her from closing her legs.

  ?That is not the same.? she said.

  ?Allowances must be made for the differences in the gender of the body chained.

  My legs had no need to be open. Yours do.?

  She closed her eyes at the vivid mental picture his words evoked. Like for like.

  And she could not prevent it, could not even beg for mercy, for he had none. He

  was ruthlessly determined to do this to her, and it would be exactly as had been

  done to him.

  ?You are taking too long, wench,? he warned softly.

  ?Do not try my patience more.?

  She yanked the shift over her head and climbed swiftly to the center of the bed,

  anything to get this over with so this sick dread would leave her. She lay down

  before he ordered her to, but her body was as stiff as a board. She kept her

  eyes closed, tightly, only she could still hear him, and the sound of his steps

  took him to the bottom of the bed.

  ?Spread them.?

  She groaned inwardly, but she did not dare to defy him.

  ?Wider,? he added, and she did that, too.

  But she still gasped as his fingers went around her ankle to hold it until the

  cold iron was locked on. The manacle did not fit tightly as it had on him, the

  weight of the chain pulling it down to catch on her arch and heel. Her other

  foot was quickly done the same, but he uttered a curse when the chain did not

  extend far enough over the top of the bed to reach her wrists. It had been cut

  to his stretched length, which was much longer than hers.

  ? Twould seem another allowance must be made.?

  Disgruntlement was clear in his tone. Hope stirred, that he would now forgo the

  chains entirely. She should have known better, for he merely left her to come

  back with two strips of cloth that he bound to her wrists, then to the manacles.

  Like for like, so she had to hear the creak of the chain if she moved, as he had

  heard it; feel its weight dragging on her limbs as he had felt it.

  She tested the bounds and experienced an overwhelming panic. My God, was this

  how he had felt? So helpless, so afraid? Nay, he had not felt fear, only rage.

  She wished she could bring that more powerful emotion forth to sustain her

  through this, but anger that he would do her thusly was the farthest thing from

  her mind just then. So it would not be exactly the same. She would not twist and

/>   fight to avoid his touch, would not try to smite him with her eyes or shake him

  from the bed. She could only hope these differences would not matter to him and

  make him angrier still.

  Her eyes opened in surprise when the gag was shoved between her lips. She had

  forgotten about that, but he had not. He did not want to hear her entreaties any

  more than she had wanted to hear his, though their reasons were not the same. He

  was feeling no guilt, as she had felt. He was enacting vengeance. She had only

  tried to save her mother?s life.

  Satisfaction at her helplessness blazed from his eyes. She wished she had not

  seen it, or that he had removed his clothes before he fetched the gag. The

  evidence of his readiness, however, gave her small relief. She need suffer only

  his rape of her, then, not that enforced by many others while he watched. And

  she already knew what he would feel like inside her. She could bear itshe would

  have to.

  ?Are you virgin here, I wonder, as you were there??

  His hands came to her breasts to tell her of what he spoke, both hands, and his

  eyes went there, too, to watch what he did. Rowena stared only at his face so

  she could gauge the moment he finished toying with her. And that was all he was

  doing. There was no need to caress her and coax her to readiness as she had

  found it necessary to do to him. He was already in that condition. ?Twas

  unnecessary that she be. And she felt no more than the heat of his palms, and