Jezebel. Eleanor Jong De
Чтение книги онлайн.

Читать онлайн книгу Jezebel - Eleanor Jong De страница 16

Название: Jezebel

Автор: Eleanor Jong De

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Историческая литература

Серия:

isbn: 9780007443215

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ will do my best to honour you, and will defer to your judgement at all times.’

      ‘That isn’t what I’ve been told.’ Ahab sounded rather fierce and Jezebel couldn’t help but wrap her arms defensively across her. ‘I frighten you, I’m afraid. It isn’t surprising, but I’d hope you will soon learn what sort of man I really am.’

      He crossed the room and stood very near to her, delicately fingering the long curls of hair that framed her face. He was a head or so taller than Jezebel, but he didn’t loom over her, only looked down rather sweetly at her.

      ‘My mother has already taken a great liking to you,’ said Ahab, his breath fragrant with wine.

      ‘She is a fine woman.’

      ‘You have no mother of your own, I understand.’

      ‘She died several years ago.’

      ‘I hope you will come to enjoy Raisa’s wisdom as I have, not to mention her comfort. For when our first son is born you’ll know not only my pride but the pride of my late father, for the future of the House of Omri will be assured.’

      Jezebel couldn’t meet his eyes any longer.

      Ahab slid his fingers beneath her hair to the nape of her neck, stroking the skin so lightly that his hand might have been made of feathers. Jezebel felt herself quiver with bewildering delight, and when he drew her to him and began to loosen the clasp of her gown, she found herself reaching for the neck of his tunic to unlace it. His kisses were soft and delicate at first, as if he were still afraid of frightening her, but she quickly found his passion beneath his restraint and she was already breathless with anticipation when he finally drew off her gown. She couldn’t help but notice that his body was not sculpted and strong like Jehu’s and he caught the way her eyes lingered on the scars on his arm and his shoulder as he lifted her up and laid her down on the bed.

      ‘This body has lived a little, I’m afraid,’ he murmured as he lay down beside her. ‘But the men who drew my blood did not live to see the wounds heal.’

      In Jehu’s voice such words would have sounded terrifying, but Ahab’s was as soft and thoughtful as his manner with her. He touched her with such tenderness that she knew his body wished to find its echo in hers and when he entered her she felt not the fear nor the repulsion she had so dreaded, but such an intense and unexpected pleasure that she barely remembered to reach for the vial of blood in time. While his head was buried in her shoulder, she flicked off the stopper with her right hand and felt the slightly warm liquid trickle over her fingers. She wiped them on the sheets, but Ahab made no remark, if he even noticed.

      Afterwards, they lay in silence for a long while, the whole Palace so quiet that Jezebel could hear each of Ahab’s breaths as they caressed her hair. She felt his eyelashes brush her forehead each time he blinked, and beneath her fingers his chest pulsed with the beat of his heart. There was such intimacy in the way he held her that she already felt his renewed stirrings of desire in herself. And yet it was infused with such guilt that made her cheeks burn, for it was Jehu’s arms she remembered being held by, his unshaven jaw that she recalled softly scratching her throat as he kissed her, the smell of his hair she missed so dreadfully.

      She must have slept, for in the early hours, she woke to him stirring and leaving the bed. In the near darkness, he tied the robe at the waist, then leaned over the bed and kissed her once more.

      ‘You will find your wedding gift at the end of the orchard,’ he murmured.

      When he was gone, Jezebel buried her face in her pillow and let the tears flow so they might flush out the poisonous turmoil in her heart and in her head.

      Chapter Thirteen

      In the light of dawn the Palace did seem more welcoming, its interlocking courtyards now easy to navigate. Guided by her curiosity, Jezebel rose early and wandered towards the walled gardens to the south. A pair of soldiers overtook her with watchful nods, the air was sweet with the smell of baking breads and honey cakes, and as she looked up at the colonnades and archways, she hoped it would not be impossible to make some sort of home for herself here.

      It would never be Tyre, but what city was? And if Ahab was always as kind to her as the previous night, if he was as good a man as Esther said—

      The nausea rose fast within Jezebel just as it had the previous morning, and she stumbled to the nearest tree, desperate not to be sick out here in full view of the Palace. But she couldn’t keep it down and she staggered against the trunk, retching over and over until her body stilled and her mouth tasted sour.

      ‘Perhaps you swallowed something you were not accustomed to,’ said a cool voice.

      Is that dreadful man following me around? she wondered weakly, lifting her head to find Obadiah staring down at her, his eyes tracing her body as though he was imagining her first night with the King for himself.

      ‘Or perhaps you don’t find our food as palatable as the Judeans?’

      An awful thought occurred to Jezebel. Could he know? Had he perhaps seen Jehu climb into her room in Tyre?

      ‘Your water isn’t as pure here,’ she forced herself to say as she straightened up and moved away from the tree, ‘nor the air you breathe.’

      ‘You haven’t spoiled the surprise, have you, Obadiah?’ Ahab came striding down the gentle slope towards them, the regal gown of the night before dispensed in favour of a plain white tunic and a wide leather belt.

      ‘Of course not, Your Highness. I would not dream of denying you that pleasure.’ Obadiah lowered his head and moved away, leaving the King and Jezebel alone.

      ‘Good morning,’ Jezebel bowed low.

      Ahab lifted her chin and kissed her on the forehead. ‘I knew you wouldn’t be able to wait to see your wedding present, and I woke up knowing I couldn’t either.’ He smiled and took her hand and led them between low clipped hedges across the gardens. ‘Custom dictates I should wait until after the wedding ceremony, but I would much rather show you now without any of the pomp and nonsense that will be expected.’

      At the far end of the gardens was a small wooden gate in the high wall which he opened to reveal a tangle of lanes sprawling down the gentle slope into the city. Ahab put his hand over Jezebel’s eyes then she felt him turn her gently to the right before lowering his hand again.

      ‘There! A little piece of Tyre in Samaria.’

      A stone’s throw from the Palace walls, nestled among wooden huts was a tiny round building with an angled roof, built entirely out of the white stone she knew from Tyre, not the local yellow rock. Above the entrance a star within a circle had been carved out of the stone, and around the pillars that flanked it were endless engraved doves in flight. Inside she could see a pristine white altar decked with stone sculptures of all Astarte’s icons, the horse, the lion, the sphinx and the dove. Even in the morning light it sparkled as though Astarte herself had begotten the Temple from the night sky and Jezebel thought it the most beautiful building she had ever seen. It was a perfect size for her and her small cadre of priests to worship in and seemed to reflect the presence her father wanted her to establish in Israel – contained and discreet but still elegant.

      ‘When I saw the shrine in your room last night,’ said Ahab, ‘I knew that I had been right to build this for you. I set the top stone myself. It has a hole carved through it so that СКАЧАТЬ