Lion's Bride - Iris Johansen [63]
She? Thea suddenly tensed as she realized what he must mean. Ware had not called Tasza to his bed of late, but that did not mean he was not coupling with other women in the household. Of course he was using them; he was a man with a lustful appetite. Why did she feel this sense of shock and outrage? She jumped to her feet. “I keep you. You clearly have things to do.”
He frowned. “Why are you—” He stopped as he understood. “You think I have a woman waiting in my bed?”
“It is none of my concern.” She moved toward the door. “But I’d think you would not use Haroun to arrange such acts.”
“My lady,” Haroun objected, shocked at what he deemed impertinence.
“It’s a squire’s duty to make his master comfortable.” Ware rose from his chair. “And you’re right, it’s none of your concern. Still, I believe it will amuse me to have you come with me.”
I want you to watch.
The scene that night in this hall came back to her. Ware sitting naked, Tasza crouched at his feet, her lips on his—
A bolt of heat seared through her. “I’ll not do it.”
“You will.” He strode past her. “Because it pleases me. One must always strive to please one’s friends. Isn’t that true?”
She hesitated, standing watching him. What was he about? He had gone not toward the staircase, as she had expected, but toward the front door.
He opened the door and stepped aside, gesturing for her to precede him.
Haroun took her hand and tugged. He whispered, “You must obey my lord.”
Haroun believed everyone on this earth must obey Ware. Still, she was curious. She let him lead her toward the door.
“I please my friend Haroun,” she told Ware as she went past him. “Not you.”
He chuckled. “I note the distinction.”
She started down the steps. “Are you going to tell me where we—” She stopped as she saw a wagon across the courtyard. Four fully armored soldiers were mounted behind it. “What is this?”
But Ware was already striding toward the wagon. Haroun immediately dropped her hand and ran after him. Thea slowly followed them.
As she drew closer, she saw a young woman lying in the bed of the wagon. She was vaguely familiar to Thea, one of the multitude of servants in this vast place.
“I don’t want to go, my lord,” the woman said, her gaze fixed pleadingly on Ware. “Let me stay.”
Ware shook his head. “You will do well in Damascus. All your needs will be met. The babe must be kept safe.” He motioned to the driver of the wagon. “Go with God.”
Babe.
Thea watched numbly as the wagon slowly rolled toward the gates with the escort following. “She’s with child?”
“Four months.” Ware was looking after the wagon with an expression she had never seen on his face—a strange mixture of desperation and bitterness. “She had to leave now. Later the journey would have been too hard on her.”
Her numbness was gone, leaving raw anger in its wake, an emotion as wild and intense as it was unexplainable. “I’d think you would want to be present when your child was born.”
“I would.” He turned to look at her. “But the babe is not mine. Fatima is the wife of one of my soldiers.”
Another rush of emotion cascaded through her, and she glanced quickly away. “I see.”
“No, you don’t,” he said roughly. “I wouldn’t send a woman bearing my child away without my escort. I would be by her side, guarding her and the child from all harm.”
She didn’t look at him. “She didn’t want to go.”
“She bears Jusef’s child, and a child is a man’s only hope of immortality. She must be kept safe. I won’t have him cheated.”
There was such an intensity of passion in his tone that she was startled. “But will she be safe?”
“I’ve deliberately sent only an escort of four. Vaden will know that I’d be more careful if they were guarding something of mine.”
“He won’t harm her?”
He frowned. “Of course he won’t hurt her. He’s no monster.”
“Forgive me,” she said with sarcasm. “When you said he wished to murder me, I assumed he was—”
“That’s a different matter.” He turned and strode toward the castle.
She did not follow him but watched