“About two days’ travel down the coast from Lord Orrick’s lands.”
William was torn now. Edward of Allonby had held so little trust in God’s answer that he took matters into his own hands to rid himself of a barren wife. Depending on the terms of the property settlement on their betrothal and marriage, he could have inherited a sizable amount of lands and wealth either with the birth of an heir or on her death. ’Twould seem he tried for both methods.
He was certain now that Alianor had nothing to do with Isabel’s attack and that to keep them apart was wrong. He also knew that he was not suitable for the daughter of a duke, not even when he held all of his family lands and titles and certainly not now as the penniless knight in this corner of England. As surely as he breathed, he would lose her as soon as she was claimed by Alianor. Whether her memory returned or not, their plans for a life together, their love, had no place and no chance.
He needed time to consider what to do. Lady Alianor did not have any proof of Isabel’s existence, other than feelings. If her father or her husband had truly believed in her intuition, there would have been armed parties of soldiers searching the land for Isabel.
Could he give her up now that he held the secret of her existence and her identity? Even when he was at his best, it would be a struggle to relinquish this woman. If Lady Alianor did not find her and was finally convinced that her feelings were incorrect, she would leave and never return, accepting that her sister was truly dead. And he would have her with him.
His long-unused conscience flared to life, gnawing at him with questions. How long would she stay with him if she discovered his past? How long until her memory returned and she realized that she was entitled to wealth and lands of her own, wealth and lands he could not offer her? Would she hate him then as much as she loved him now?
His head ached as much as his gut. He glanced at the countess and thought of what to say. How could he bring this interview to a close and get back to Isabel? William remembered one of the things that Lady Alianor had said.
“If I might ask, my lady, you said you did penance for your part in this. How do you bear the blame for your sister’s death?” She glared at his words and he rephrased them. “If your sister is dead.”
“This is the most difficult part, Sir Royce.”
“If you would rather not speak of it, my lady, I would understand since this entire situation contains issues of such a personal and private nature.”
She reached out and touched his hand. With a halfhearted smile, she said, “No, I will tell you the whole of it. Since I am asking your assistance, you should know the sordid story.”
When put like that, mayhap he did not want to hear the rest?
“You see, I was supposed to marry Edward and not Guy. But when he accompanied his uncle and father to Richmond for the negotiations, he frightened me with his…intensity. Anne knew how I felt about him and went to our father and convinced him she was infatuated with Edward. Since which of us were named in the marriage settlements did not matter, she took my place.”
Her tears fell silently this time and he could say nothing. Alianor must have known about Anne’s treatment at the hands of her disappointed husband and his family. She knew that her fears had spurred Anne into stepping forward to protect her. And now the reason behind the unhappy marriage was clear—Isabel, Anne, was barren.
William needed to get out of that room, for the ground beneath him felt as though it was shifting and he feared that the walls around him would crash down soon. He needed to put as much distance between Alianor and himself as was possible, for she was causing his conscience to think about doing the right thing in this matter and he could not let that happen.
Not yet.
Not yet.
Somehow he obtained her promise to wait a few days while he brought this news to Lord Orrick. He agreed to come back to the abbey and bring her any news of any untoward occurrence that had happened in the area in the early part of June. He gained himself just about a week to come to terms with the knowledge he had acquired and to decide what to do.
In leaving, he almost knocked over the two women who waited for her outside the chamber. The bells of the abbey called the monks there to the hour of sext and William faced staying at the abbey overnight since dusk was at hand. As he walked through the courtyard, he decided not to ask for a room for the night there. He needed a drink. Actually, he needed many of them to drown out the questions and voices seething inside of him.
Connor hailed him from the gate and William smiled as finally something went his way. Since his friend always carried a skin of uisge beatha, he could count on a supply of mind-numbing whiskey on hand. As Connor directed him to their campsite, William could count the short time that his conscience had to bother him. He never made it past the third swig of the potent brew.
Chapter Twenty-One
Isabel walked back from a short visit to the chapel and wondered if Royce would return before nightfall. He’d gone off, at the behest of Lord Orrick, and neither the lord nor his lady would say why or when to expect his return. Her time in prayer and contemplation had given her the answer she sought and now she wanted to share it with him…if he would only get back.
As if conjured by her thoughts of him, he walked up to her and took her hand. His eyes had a strange glint in them and he looked as though he had ridden hard and long to get back here. Quietly he tugged her to follow him and he led her to where his horse stood, saddled and ready outside the keep’s gate.
“Royce, we are expected at supper.” She began to pull away, but his grip tightened. She looked at him to see why he did so.
“Isabel,” he said, stumbling over her name. “Come with me now?”
She had never seen him in his cups, but she thought this might be the day after such an occasion. He looked rough to her, raw in some indefinable way. And never had she felt such need coming from him.
“Of course, I will.”
He mounted first and then reached out to her. Without hesitation, she placed her foot on his and let him lift her before him on the horse. Their destination was never in question and in a few minutes, he brought the horse to stop outside his cottage. The first kiss began as soon as his feet touched the ground and continued as he backed her into the croft.
He peeled off her layers of clothing and when she could no longer breathe and wore nothing but her shift and stockings, he pulled away, intent on undressing himself. When he unbelted the chain mail and pulled it over his head, odors pungent enough to make her eyes water escaped from his road-weary tunic.
“I am offensive,” he said so seriously that she laughed.
“You are that. If you kept some of the soap here, you could wash in the stream.”
“We could wash in the stream,” he repeated as he pulled open the small cupboard and found the pottery jar of soap. Over the past few weeks, more supplies and linens had been brought back here as their use of it as a private place increased.
She thought to object to walking outside in such a state of undress, but the light of the day was fading and they were far enough away from the village that no one should be nearby. Still, in only her shift, she felt naked before him. When he tugged off the last of his clothes, she did not know whether to object or admire. She admired.
Something was different about him. Mayhap it was the result of overimbibing? Men were known to wear the effects of too much wine or ale for days afterward. It was just not like him to behave so. They arrived at the edge of the stream and he continued to the place where she had washed her hair that day weeks and weeks ago.
“See the way this pool formed here?” she asked. “Just deep enough for bathing if the water is warm enough.”
“I made it for just that purpose. By damming up part of the stream there—” he pointed to a pile of rocks and branches a few yards away “—it allows the water to collect, and then it flows out there when it reaches that level.”
She had not noticed before that this was anyt
hing but formed by nature. She smiled at him. “What a wonderful plan! But I never saw you use it as such while I was here.”
“I used it late at night when you were asleep. We were trying not to notice each other in those days and nights.”
That had been exactly the situation between them. Isabel was certainly glad that was over. Royce walked into the pool and first sat then lay in the water and let it pour over and around him. After he was completely wet, he extended his hand for the soap she held in hers. Stepping into the water and closer to him, the coldness of the water surprised her.
“How can you stand this? It’s so cold.” She tried to give him the jar but he would not take it, forcing her to step closer. Finally she stood over him as he sat in the water.
“Would you wash me?”
His request was not the teasing she thought it was and so she scooped out some soap and began to lather his hair. Leaning over she spread it down onto his shoulders and back. She tried to move away but he grabbed her legs and held her close.
“Your shift will get wet if you do not remove it.”
“It will not,” she said, taking another measure of soap, “if you are careful.”
“Isabel,” he said in the husky voice that foretold of pleasure, “I am not going to be careful and it will get wet. Take it off now or I will not carry the blame when you return to the keep in a wet shift.”
There was barely a moment to spare, for she had no sooner lifted the shift over her head than he pulled her to him. Not knowing what to expect in this setting, she was surprised to feel his mouth on her thighs. Looking down to where he sat, she was puzzled.
“Here, step over me this way.”
When she did as he directed, she stood above him with her legs spread over his lap. Exposed and aching, she moaned her pleasure as his seeking hands found the throbbing place between her legs. She reached out to find some balance and rested her hands on his shoulders.
He held her thighs apart and replaced his hands with his mouth and she bit her tongue trying not to let out the screams she wanted to make. Her knees weakened and she thought she would fall on him in the water. Royce guided her down until the heated core of her was on his hardness. In one swift movement, he filled her.
Joining in this way was new to her and she could feel his fullness stretching her inside until she moaned. With his hands free, he wreaked havoc on her body, touching her breasts and rubbing against the sensitive bud that seemed to be the center of all she felt at that moment. The tension, the excitement, the arousal gathered within her and she began to melt from inside out as her peak approached.
Royce had other ideas, for even as the first contractions pulsed inside her, he stopped and remained still. Not quite close enough to the edge to fall over it, she gasped as everything in her called out for release. When she tried to move on him, he grasped her hips and prevented her from doing it.
“Royce?”
“I want to make this last. Let me play you awhile.”
She was not sure how this would work, but she knew from that mischievous smile that he would insure her pleasure. Isabel gave herself up to him and he drew out the moment of completion for what seemed like hours by starting and stopping again and again.
When he finally let her reach her peak, she did scream it out into the night and her sounds echoed through the forest around them. And it was such a powerful ending that it went on and on, pulsing and racing through her in endless waves, until she collapsed in his arms.
When she regained her senses, she was in his arms in a shameful embrace being carried back to the croft. Draped over him like a shirt with her legs wrapped around his waist, she finally noticed that he was still hard…and still inside her! He walked them into the croft and knelt down with her and then laid her back onto the pallet.
“Isabel, I love you.”
He said the words with a certain desperation that frightened her initially, but once he began thrusting into her already aroused softness, she accepted. His gaze never left hers this time and when she felt him harden even more, she knew his release was about to happen. He repeated her name over and over as he claimed her and as he marked her with each touch. His seed erupted against her womb and she watched his face as it finally lost the tension.
His body relaxed against hers and he remained within her for a long while. Lifting his weight off her, he rolled them to their sides and gathered her close. They were wet, but she had no desire to move from his side even to reach for a drying cloth.
“Royce?”
“Hmm?”
“If I give you my answer to your offer, will you woo me less ardently?”
He did not reply right away. She thought that mayhap he had fallen asleep and not heard her after all.
“Only if you want me to,” he answered. “But I doubt I could.”
She rested against him, enjoying the warmth and the quiet before actually giving him her acceptance. Isabel was certain he already knew what it would be, however she wanted to say the words to him.
“I would have you always, Royce, as my husband. For now and for always, come what may.”
Her words killed him.
Given all he’d discovered, they ripped his heart and soul apart. He said nothing back since there were no words in his power to say at that moment. Overwhelmed by the emotions within him, he remained silent and simply held her, wanting to never let her go.
They both dozed off for a few minutes, but they could not remain there through the night. Lady Margaret, who had so many other reasons for hating him, would not forgive another violation in her courtly rules, and taking Isabel from the yard so boldly and keeping her away overnight would be a definite breach.
The fog induced by more than three swigs of Connor’s potent whiskey hung over him still and he was grateful for it in some ways. It kept the voices out of his head. It kept the guilt and anger and other feelings at bay. The only thing he could think about was her. When he saw her walking in the courtyard, his only thought was to bury himself in her and to lose the pain of what was coming.
And she had accepted it. Him. She made no demands, expressed no preferences and suffered no hesitation. Isabel took him into her body, her soul, her heart with love. If anyone could heal him, it would be her.
It was not to be.
He took her love and possessed her body and soul even as he planned his betrayal of her and all they shared. She had brought him back from the edge of darkness and given life to his soul and he would repay her with deceit. Part of him screamed out even as he considered what to do. She did not deserve this from him.
She shifted in his arms and he kissed her neck, inhaling her scent and savoring it. He would keep it in his memory for the rest of his life, knowing that nothing, no one, could replace her.
He just wanted another week with her. If he was lucky, it would take that long for her sister to become suspicious of his late return and follow him here. Once Alianor arrived, ’twould not matter if Isabel…Anne remembered her life or not, her sister would never leave her behind.
And then he would move back into the darkness from where he’d come and never return. Regardless of Orrick’s offer, William could not stay once Isabel left. He could not think about what he would do, but it would not be here.
The night arrived and its soft sounds surrounded the cottage. ’Twas time to take her back and face Orrick and Margaret with another lie. And more would follow until he left. They did not deserve it either, but soon he would be gone and they could relegate him to their memories as a mistake made in their lives.
Thoughts began to swirl in his mind, but he pushed them away. He would have his days with Isabel and then he would think, then he would make the decisions about who and what and where. For now, he would do the thing he had resisted for so long.
He would feel.
And so, with the determination of a man facing death and knowing when it would come, he forced the doubts and fears out of his mind. He would take this time with her a
nd enjoy it to the fullest. William did not know the details of her marriage and did not need to in order to understand how unhappy it would have been for her. Her barrenness would have been held against her every passing day and in more ways than he could think of.
He would give her some small measure of happiness here until the truth came out. He would pleasure her until she screamed. He would love her with everything within his being and not want anything in return—no lands, no titles, no wealth. Only her love. Even for this short while.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Ah, the joys of being in love.”
Isabel blinked, clearing her thoughts, and turned to Lady Rosamunde. “Your pardon, my lady. I did not hear your words.”
Rosamunde laughed and Isabel looked at her. “You are wearing that dreamy expression again, Isabel. I hope you’ve asked Lady Margaret to send for a priest soon.”
“Not yet,” she answered. After she told Royce she would accept his offer of marriage, no more discussion of it happened. His attentions turned even more ardent, if that was possible, and she had been living in a whirlwind of passion and love for four days.
“At least after you marry, we can lock you in your chambers to get all of this fire out of you. Gautier and I,” the lady’s voice drifted off as she spoke of her husband, “were not seen for a sennight after ours.”
She sighed and Isabel smiled. This seemed to be a place of happily married couples, a thing not always seen in noble and arranged marriages.
“Come then, Isabel. Let us be about our duties.”
They had been enjoying a brief rest at the village well on their way back to the keep. Royce was away for the day, sent by Orrick to the southern boundaries of his lands to investigate reports of brigands. Isabel stood and stretched out all the sore and overused muscles of her body. And she gloried in every single one that reminded her of the ways Royce had loved her.
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