Lydia sputtered in fury, her cold eyes malevolent and promising retribution. She yanked her horse around to leave, and as she did so, she snapped the end of her reins against Lightning’s muzzle apurpose.
The mare screamed in pain and reared up, her forelegs flailing. Prepared this time for Lydia to retaliate, Kat clung tightly to her mare, a fast grip on the reins. But Lydia was not as skilled a horsewoman. Unable to control her startled palfrey, she could not escape in time; their mounts bumped and jostled against one another.
Immediately regaining control, Kat took advantage of Lydia’s distraction. No one harmed her horse without repercussions. She hooked her long leg under Lydia’s left leg, and raising it high, she shoved Lydia in the back. Lydia toppled off the other side of her horse, emitting a piercing shriek. She hit the ground face first. The white mare shambled quickly away, leaving her in the dirt.
Kat’s heart thundered loudly in her ears like the pounding of a herd of horses at the swiftness of the attack. Lydia began to wail. Kat stared down at her in disgust, when it suddenly dawned on her that the sound of pounding hooves was real. She looked up, surprised to see a party of men approaching. Her gaze landed on Alex, riding in front beside King Edward.
Alex wore a gold tunic and the sun struck blue sparks off his black hair. But what caught her attention was the thunderous expression on his face. Alex scowled as he took in the scene. Kat was elated. Obviously he had seen Lady Lydia’s attack and would at last realize Lydia was a vicious woman unworthy of his love.
Alex had raced like a centaur through a copse of trees so eager to reach Kat, that nearly too late he ducked his head to avoid striking a branch. When he looked up once more, horse and rider surged into the open pasture where the women’s hunting party converged. To his horror, his eyes alighted upon Kat just as she struck Lady Lydia in the back and shoved her.
Lydia hit the ground, landing in an ungainly heap. Alex groaned. Spurring his horse faster, he made straight for Kat, unable to believe what he had just seen. She had attacked Lydia without provocation, or so it seemed. Lydia had ever been too ladylike to say an unkind word or do aught antagonistic. But would Kat harm another for no apparent reason? He knew she had a hot temper. Could she have lashed out at Lydia in a jealous fit?
He would withhold judgment until he heard Kat’s explanation. Had he not accused her outright of being a whore with disastrous results upon his return? He was wrong then and he would not make the mistake again.
When Alex reined in beside Kat, Lydia moaned in pain. Dragging his gaze from his wife, he jumped off his horse and knelt beside Lydia. “Lydia, are you injured? Tell me where it hurts.”
Her voice quavered. “’Tis my knee. I think I twisted it when I hit the ground.” She gulped back huge tears in silent misery, but they flowed over her long lashes and down her ivory cheeks. He patted her hand in an attempt to comfort her.
Alex looked up at Kat. “What happened here, Kat?” he asked, his tone neutral.
Kat blinked in surprise. Then she raised her chin in a belligerent manner and aimed an accusatory glare at him, her lips sealed tight. What is this? he wondered. Her contemptuous gaze confused him. Why did she not simply answer the question?
Instead, Lydia answered him. “Your lady wife attacked me, Alex. ’Twas so sudden and unprovoked. One moment Lady Katherine and I were speaking. We had quite a pleasant and cordial conversation, actually. I complimented her riding skills and admired her unique tunic. But when I turned back to rejoin the ladies, she knocked me off my horse. I don’t understand why she would do such a thing?” Her bottom lip trembled as she looked up at him through lowered lashes, her eyes miserably confused.
Kat grunted.
“Mayhap ’tis my fault.” Lydia lowered her eyes in contrition and beseeched Kat. “My lady, if I have ever done aught to offend you, I beg you forgive me.”
Kat turned a hateful glare upon Lydia and laughed, the sound harsh and grating. “Bravo, Lady Lydia. ’Tis my turn to commend you,” she said sarcastically, “on your excellent mummery skills.”
The king and the rest of the party of men reined in just then, no doubt avid for a juicy tidbit of gossip to toss upon the pyre blazing about court already. Alex was not unaware of the delicate situation he had been unavoidably placed in.
Fortunately, Edward waved the men on. “Go on and join the ladies, gentlemen. I shall join you anon.”
The men continued on, all except for Rand and Sir Luc. The latter pulled his horse up beside Kat, his expression closed and unreadable. Alex bristled in frustration, torn. He could not leave Lydia lying in the dirt, injured and in pain. But his concern for Lydia, no matter how innocent, had returned the cold look in Kat’s eyes.
Alex wrapped an arm around Lydia and helped her stand up. She cried out, clutching her right knee.
“Can you ride?”
“Nay, ’tis too painful.”
King Edward’s horse pranced nervously. “Well, since you have things in hand here, Alex, I’m off to see my lady wife.” Edward grinned. “I will speak to you back at the palace.”
“Sir Luc,” Alex snapped. “Why do you just sit there and stare? Come help your stepmother.”
Sir Luc recoiled in revulsion. “She is not my stepmother.”
Alex frowned. “I was led to believe Lady Lydia was married to your father.”
Luc nodded reluctantly. “Aye, she was, but she is no stepmother of mine. I claim her not.”
“She is still your kin by marriage. I will hand her up to you so you can carry her back to court. She needs to lie down and have her injury tended by a physician.”
“Nay, I shall do no such thing.”
“By God, man, she is your father’s widow, she deserves—”
Lydia leaned against him weakly and moaned in pain, her rose scent cloying. “Prithee, Sir Alex, my knee pains me greatly. You shall not sway Sir Luc with words of the duty he owes me. Ours is an old quarrel. Will you not assist me?”
His gaze shot to Kat and then Sir Luc. He was trapped. “Aye, of course, I shall help you.” Damn Sir Luc, no doubt he was enjoying Alex’s quandary.
Alex glanced at Kat again, accusation clear in her eyes. If she were innocent, then Lydia lied. But why did she refuse to defend herself, or deny Lydia’s accusation? He did not know what to think or believe.
Kat was going to be ill. Alex, concern etched on his face, clasped Lydia’s tiny waist in a gentle embrace, his hand dark and masculine against the light blue silk of Lydia’s tunic. Nausea churned in Kat’s stomach and rose into her throat. Her skin grew clammy and cold. Had those hands that passed Lydia into Rand’s arms now, really held her just last night? Held her with amazing strength and extraordinary gentleness, with passion and tenderness?
If Alex truly cared for her as he claimed, he would know that Kat was innocent. Oh, he had not accused her outright, but that he had to ask was proof enough. She refused to defend herself when he could not see the truth before his eyes. Where Lydia was concerned, Alex was blind to her manipulative ways. He thought her a fragile innocent in need of a man’s protection and could never conceive her capable of malice or violence. Did they not say love was blind?
When Alex sat on his mount, Rand handed Lydia over to him. Unable to watch the spectacle another moment, Kat turned to Luc. But he was staring oddly at Lydia and Alex, his eyes glittering with some heated emotion she could not interpret.
Then Luc’s gaze cleared and he turned to Kat. He smiled, his glance admiring. “The day is much too beautiful to waste, my lady. Shall we join the others and continue the hunt?”
“I would be delighted, Sir Luc.”
As they rode back to the hunting party, she averted her gaze from the revolting sight of Lydia in Alex’s embrace. She heard Alex call her name, but she ignored him and rode on. Passion had clouded her judgment since Alex’s return, but no more. ’Twas past time she remembered that Sir Luc loved her and wished to marry her.
Ever since she lost her mother her fifth summer, all she had ever wante
d was to be loved. When she grew older, deep inside Kat feared she was not the type of woman to inspire romantic love. She was too odd and outspoken, too tall and brazen. Men were either intimidated by her or contemptuous of her unladylike behavior.
Then she married Alex and foolishly thought she could make him fall in love with her. She soon discovered her fears were not misplaced when Alex abandoned her after their wedding. With Sir Luc, it would be different. He alone offered her a chance at happiness. He would give her the child she desperately craved, someone to love without fear of rejection. Aye. She would grasp what Sir Luc offered with both hands as though clinging to a steep cliff, knowing he would never let her go to crash below upon the rocky shore of disillusionment.
Alex shifted back in his saddle, trying to create more space between him and Lady Lydia balanced on his lap. But Lydia did not take the hint and clung tighter. The soft flesh of her buttocks pressed back into his groin, her plump breasts cushioned against his chest. He felt the rush of his blood, his flesh lengthening.
Jesu, he was a man after all.
Lydia could have no idea of the unwilling effect her position had on him. Alex had been her first lover and she had married soon after, to a man old enough to be her grandfather. He doubted Lord Joinville had the stamina to do his duty properly and therefore thought Lydia a virtual innocent. But it was no concern of his. He just hoped they reached Westminster Palace soon. He was glad Rand accompanied them. Alex did not want to give Kat any more reason for jealousy.
Alex spurred Zeus faster. He was impatient to finish his duty to Lydia and speak to Kat. He wanted to ask what induced her to commit violence upon a lady. Though Kat was unlike any other lady of his acquaintance, this was not like her. She was stubborn, independent, opinionated, and defiant, but never cruel or vindictive. She was uninterested in ladylike pursuits, the complete opposite, in fact. She rode as well as a man and wore odd riding skirts that revealed more of her legs than he thought decent. Still, he would have no other for wife.
Her exhilarating presence livened his days, lessening the pain of his memories. It was her spirited nature that drew him, challenged him. On the other hand, she needed a strong hand to guide her, to protect her from her impulsive, headstrong ways. And he intended to be the man to do it.
But he felt as if time was rapidly passing him by, the deadline of the bargain drawing nearer and nearer. Lydia’s return to court could not have been at a more inopportune time. He simply must find a way to break through Kat’s reserve and prove he loved her and not Lydia.
If not, he feared he might be swallowed up by the dark menace of his nightmares, become a brutal savage again. A cold chill ran up his spine. In the deepest part of the night, his demons haunted him, sought to devour his body and spirit. Rotting flesh hung on the specters’ skulls, their mummy-like faces distorted. They grinned at him ghoulishly, soulless red-eyed demons that resembled men he had brutally killed with his bare hands to survive.
“Alex?” someone called him from far away.
“Alex, are you well?” Rand’s voice penetrated his thoughts.
Slow to reply, Alex turned his head to his friend. “Aye,” he lied, “why do you ask?”
Rand studied him with alarm. “All the color leeched from your face of a sudden. You’re white as bone.”
Lydia shifted in his lap. “Oh pray, Sir Alex, tell me you are not ill.” Alex looked down at her. She gazed up at him in concern, her blue eyes searching as she placed her hand on his cheek. “You have no fever. Mayhap ’tis something you ate?”
Alex smiled at her obvious distress. She was really very sweet, but he loved Kat and always would. “You need not worry about me, Lady Lydia. I have had little sleep since my return and I am but fatigued. Likely all I need is a full night’s rest.”
Lydia’s fingernails dug sharply into his back and her eyes narrowed. Then she dropped her eyes demurely from his gaze. Alex could not imagine what he said to perturb her.
Beside him, Rand chuckled. “Aye. I do not doubt it.”
Alex realized how his words had been misconstrued and his face flushed. Obviously Lydia’s reaction was from embarrassment. He gave Rand a quelling look but, not surprisingly, his friend ignored him, grinning like an unrepentant rogue.
When they reached the crest of the hill they were climbing, Rand pointed. In the distance, Westminster Abbey and the adjoining palace were nestled in a valley along a serpentine bend of the river Thames.
Alex cleared his throat. “It will not be long now, Lady Lydia. When we arrive at the palace, I shall summon your servant and see that someone tends to your injury.”
“Thank you, Alex. You are very gallant to help a lady in distress. You were ever kind to me,” she said, her voice soft and shy. But when she looked up at him, her lips were tilted in an inviting smile.
With her blond hair, pale skin, and blue eyes, she gave the impression of innocence, but in contrast her lips were full and sensual. In his youth, the dichotomy had driven him mad with lust. Even knowing her a virgin, her mouth had cried to him—kiss me, tear my clothes off and ravish me till I scream in ecstasy.
Now he was unmoved by her beauty. He understood the difference between idolization and real love. Lydia outwardly exuded the model of perfect womanhood. But Alex loved Kat for the woman she was inside, imperfections and all.
He nodded to Lydia and spurred Zeus down the hill.
Chapter 17
Lydia, her face smooth and unmarred by turmoil, lay limply in Alex’s arms as he carried her across the courtyard to the double-door entry. But inwardly she seethed in frustration. So the brazen slattern had not been lying. Lydia did not understand how Alex could desire the woman. Lady Katherine was brash and uncouth, her tall mannish form so unlike Lydia’s own delicate, though lush and inviting body.
No matter. Lydia was confident Alex would be hers again very soon and do her bidding. She had wanted him the moment she had laid eyes on him all those years ago. Alex had been young, beautiful, heir to a wealthy barony and easily led by his cock. More importantly, he was naïve to the ways of a woman determined to gather wealth the only way available to her: through marriage, whoring, or both.
Unfortunately, her father already sold her to an old, limp man who wanted to impress his friends with a beautiful young wife to hide his ‘infirmity.’ Lydia was happy enough with the arrangement until she met Alex. The man her father chose, Lord Joinville, had an ample fortune—he also had two sons to provide for. Eventually, she took care of the younger son. But his first-born and heir was too wise to lose his father’s affections through any manipulation on her part.
Still, with her talents, early in her marriage she managed to make the old man’s withered member hard enough, if not to poke her, for him to achieve gratification. And her manipulations bore fruit, because Lord Joinville assigned a modest fortune in his will to her. Then when the old man lay on his deathbed, his heir filled his ears with evidence of her infidelities. As a result, before he had died he altered her endowment to a pittance. He left her naught but her widow’s portion—several small manors that would never support her in the manner to which she had become accustomed.
Alex would not escape her this time. As they approached the residence block, a tall, gray-haired porter opened one of the massive iron-studded doors. Alex strode up the steps and entered the vaulted porch. Beyond the screen was a ground floor hall where the majority of the visitors at Westminster Palace slept rolled up in blankets next to one another like corded wood. On the first and second floors were the more private apartments for the privileged few, along with third floor turret chambers. All were parts of the extensive improvements made to the palace by King Henry, completed only ten years ago.
Alex adjusted his grip, his chest muscles flexing against her breasts. Lydia felt no pleasure in the touch, but she gazed at Alex with adoring eyes and blushed as though embarrassingly aroused.
The gesture was totally wasted on him for he was looking at the porter. “Summon Lady Lydia�
��s manservant. She needs assistance to her chamber.”
Lydia frowned. Something was amiss. On the ride here he barely looked at her, was not attentive to her every need. He should be unable to take his eyes off her. She knew he desired her; she had rubbed against him apurpose to incite his lust and had felt his hard arousal.
The servant glanced at Lydia. Alex glanced down at her. “Is aught the matter, Lady Lydia?”
“’Tis just…I,” she looked down and lowered her voice, “I’m embarrassed to have to tell you this, but my husband left me with little means. I have but one servant, Sara, my faithful maid.”
Alex frowned and turned to the porter. “I shall have need of one of your attendants to take the lady to her room.”
“Oh nay, Sir Alex. I beg you. Will you not take me? I shall not feel comfortable in a stranger’s arms.”
“’Tis highly improper for me to be alone with you in your chamber.”
Lydia did not respond, just dropped her eyes and bit her lower lip in distress.
The porter spoke up. “My lord, what would you have me do?”
“I will see the lady to her chamber. Summon the physician and Lady Lydia’s maid at once and send them directly to her chamber.”
The porter bowed and left. Four sets of spiral stairs, cut into each corner of the building, led up to the sleeping quarters.
“You shall have to direct me to your chamber, my lady.”
“Third floor, the southwest turret chamber,” Lydia replied in a low voice, forcing Alex to dip his head closer to hear her. Alex clutched her tighter and moving past the screen, he turned right for the nearest stairs. His steps echoed like cracks of thunder as he hurried up two flights to the second floor, then he strode down the passage and up a third flight of steps.
He carried her inside the turret chamber and looked around quickly.
“I share the room with two other ladies. But you need not worry you shall compromise me. They won’t be back for some time as they are with the queen.”
Vow of Seduction Page 18
