Infamous by Virginia Henley Page A

rightly laid at my door, and I accept full blame.”
    Jory sat in his bed, hugging her body, which was clad in his black velvet robe. His stark honesty compelled her to confess something she never said aloud. “I killed my mother. She died giving birth to me. I know what it is like to bear guilt.”
    Warwick’s heart went out to her. He knew better than to diminish the tragedy by telling her it wasn’t her fault. What people thought and said about you mattered not one whit. It was the belief buried deep within your soul that counted. “In spite of my blackened reputation, you are still not afraid of me, are you, Jory de Warenne?”
    Her glance roamed over the proud face, muscled shoulders and chest, and came to rest on his powerful hands, which possessed enough brute strength to snuff out her life. Yet those same hands had lovingly held the most private and vulnerable parts of her body. “No, I am not afraid of you, Guy. I would willingly place my safety in your hands.” She raised her eyes to his and smiled.
    The question is: Would you be willing to place your future in my hands? He smiled back at her. He couldn’t help it; her smile was infectious and it did strange and wonderful things to his insides. Though he was past thirty, and cynical and jaded beyond his years, this vibrant wisp of a girl made him feel twenty again.
    â€œLet’s make a pact that from now on there will always be truth between us. Deceit is the common currency between a male and a female. It is not only uniquely refreshing, it is an aphrodisiac to find a lady who tells me honestly what is in her heart. Candor is a rare and precious thing. Until tonight, I didn’t think it was possible to have a relationship without lies and subterfuge. A man usually has to tell a woman what she wants to hear. It is liberating to share my darkest secrets with you, Jory.”
    â€œMen have all the power in this world, my lord earl. In order to achieve the smallest fraction of control over her own life, her own destiny, a woman must dissemble, flatter, and manipulate. If needs must, I will delude the entire world, but I promise I will never lie to you, Guy de Beauchamp.” She tossed her hair about her shoulders. “I have quite made up my mind!”
    You will lie, Jory, but it is pleasant to pretend if only for a little while. “I am honored by your pledge. Come, we must both get dressed and I will take you back.” He opened his wardrobe and donned clean garments, while Jory climbed reluctantly from the bed and slipped on the plain grey tunic. She handed him the black robe and he rubbed it against his cheek. “Your fragrance clings to the velvet.”
    â€œI always wear freesia.”
    â€œThe costly scent should have told me you were no serving wench.” I deliberately deceived myself. He lifted a curl from her shoulder and rubbed its silken texture between his fingers.
    â€œAre you disappointed that I am highborn?”
    â€œNothing about you disappoints me, Jory.” That was my first lie to you, sweetheart. If you were not highborn, it would be a simple task to make you my mistress and sweep you off to Warwick.
    â€œI am regretful that there will be no further dalliance,” she said wistfully. She bent to pick up the white linen headdress.
    â€œSplendor of God, I’m not done with you yet—I’ve hardly begun. There will be no further dalliance tonight, Lady Marjory, but tomorrow I intend to continue my relentless pursuit and explore any and every possibility of a liaison between us.”
    Her fingers trembled with excitement as she covered her hair. He tucked in a tendril that tried to escape and bent to brush his lips across hers. “Lord God, I intend to do more than woo you.” He willfully ignored the emblem on his chest that was doing its damndest to burn a hole in his flesh. Not without right!
    Though it was long past midnight, no guard challenged the Earl