The Taming by Jude Deveraux Page A

Peregrine boys might be a little rough around the edges, but that was because they were men, not popinjays ruled by women.
    â€œI guess so,” Liana said. She was afraid that if he saw her and realized she was the woman who’d tossed the clothes at him, he’d refuse to marry her. He didn’t like shrews, and if Rogan wanted a soft-spoken wife, then she was going to be a soft-spoken wife.
    â€œWell, it’s easy enough to arrange,” Gilbert said. “I’ll say you have the pox and he can exchange rings with a proxy. We’ll set the wedding for…” He looked at Helen, but she was stony and silent. “Three months. Is that all right with you, daughter?”
    Liana looked at Helen, and instead of hating her stepmother, she remembered the way Helen was ready to allow Liana to remain as a spinster in the Neville household. Perhaps Helen didn’t hate her after all. “I will need gowns,” Liana said softly. “And I will need household goods. Do you think you could help me choose what I need?”
    Helen looked bleak. “I cannot make you change your mind?”
    â€œNo,” Liana said. “You cannot.”
    â€œThen I will help you,” Helen said. “If you died, I would help lay out your body for burial, so I will ready you for this.”
    â€œThank you,” Liana said, smiling, and left the room feeling wonderfully light and happy. She had a great deal to do in the next three months.
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    The Peregrine banner of a rampant white falcon on a red background with three horses’ skulls in a diagonal band across the falcon’s belly flew over the campsite. Some of the men slept in tents or under the baggage wagons, but Rogan and Severn lay on blankets on the ground, their bodies surrounded by weapons.
    â€œI don’t understand why she agreed to marry you,” Severn said once again. It was something he’d been puzzling on since Gilbert Neville had said his daughter had agreed to the marriage. Rogan had merely shrugged, then started negotiating what was to be included in the dowry. Neither Rogan nor Gilbert seemed to think it was odd that the young woman, after refusing most of England, should take Rogan sight unseen.
    â€œShe turned down everyone else,” Severn said. “Not that I approve of allowing a girl to choose her own husband, but why would she say no to a man like Stephen Whitington?”
    Rogan turned onto his side, away from his brother, and grunted. “The girl has a head on her shoulders. She made the right choice.”
    It was Severn’s turn to grunt. “There’s more to it than you’re telling me. You didn’t seduce the girl in private, did you?”
    â€œI never laid eyes on her. I was too busy trying to seduce Neville out of his gold. Maybe he beat the girl and told her who she was to marry, just as he should have done in the first place.”
    â€œPerhaps,” Severn said. “But I still think you—”
    Angrily, Rogan looked across the night at his brother. “I never met the girl, I told you. I was with Neville from morning till night.”
    â€œExcept when you went off alone before we went to Neville’s castle.”
    â€œI didn’t—” Rogan began, then stopped and remembered the girl who’d complained about his clothes. He had forgotten about her until this moment. He’d have to remember to look for her when he returned in three months’ time for his wedding. “I didn’t see the heiress,” Rogan said softly. “Her father must have arranged the marriage. He’s a fool of a man and I could buy his soul for a dozen or so hawks.”
    â€œI doubt if you’d have to pay that much,” Severn scoffed, then paused a moment. “Weren’t you curious about the woman? I’d want to see a woman I was to marry before I married her. She could be fat and old for all you know.”
    â€œWhat do I care about