The Treasure

by The Treasure (v5. 0) (lit)

  Oh, yes, this was the Kadar she wanted to rouse. But he was wrong: She was afraid of him in this moment. She hid it as she smiled back at him. “I see nothing to fear. Lord Douglas can protect me.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so. Because he’s going to go and fetch your cloak, aren’t you, Lord Douglas?”

  Lord Douglas was nervously glancing from one to the other. “Perhaps we should all return—”

  “I need a word with the lady Selene. I’m sure you’ll understand.”

  Douglas drew a deep breath and then straightened his shoulders. “I feel it my duty to stay until she feels well enough to go back to the hall.”

  She hadn’t counted on this. She had thought he would scurry away when Kadar showed his claws. Was he a fool that he couldn’t see the danger Kadar represented? She shivered. “I do feel chilled. Would you please fetch my cloak, Douglas?”

  He hesitated and then, to her immense relief, took the out she’d given him. He bowed. “As you wish.”

  She watched him hurry across the courtyard.

  “You’re usually better at reading people.” Kadar’s gaze was also on Lord Douglas. “He was braver than you thought.”

  “Yes.” She didn’t try subterfuge. It never worked with Kadar.

  He knew her too well. “Brave or blind. He may be the one lacking in judgment.” She turned to face him, the excitement building. “What would you have done if I hadn’t sent him away?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I’m asking you.”

  “Killed him,” he said casually. “I was very irritated with our young lord. I was considering a knife to the belly. He would have died slowly and painfully.”

  “Why were you irritated?”

  He smiled. “You know why.”

  “Tell me.”

  “He touched you. I’m sure it was by your design, but he still touched you. How did it feel to have his hand on you?”

  She had barely been aware of that touch. She had been too focused on its effect on Kadar. “Exciting.”

  He chuckled. “You lie.”

  “Well, it could have been—under other circumstances. I’m weary of living life like one of the nuns at the abbey. You have no right to complain. Do you think I don’t hear of the women you bed? You’ve not left a willing wench in the Highlands untouched, and heaven knows what you do on your journeys to Spain and Italy.”

  “Heaven knows.”

  “It’s not funny. And it’s not fair.”

  “Life is unfair.”

  “Well, I won’t have it. I’m weary of being the only woman in Scotland you won’t bed.”

  “So you tried to stir me to action with the sword of jealousy. As I remember, you threatened some such ploy before. Very clever.” He tilted his head. “But dangerous.”

  “That was years ago. I was still a child.”

  “You’re still a child in some ways.”

  “I’m not. Though you treat me as one.” She drew a deep breath and attacked. “I want you to wed me.”

  His smile faded. “I know you do.”

  “I . . . care about you.”

  “I know.”

  “And you feel something for me. I also know that, Kadar.”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “Then wed me.” She tried to smile. “You could hardly do better. Thea and I share the profits from the silk trade we started here at Montdhu. I’m a fine match.”

  “For any man.” He shook his head. “Not now, Selene.”

  “Why not? I told you, I’m not a child any longer. I don’t remember ever feeling like a child.”

  “That’s part of our problem.”

  Disappointment surged through her. But it was what she had expected. She launched her second foray. “Then bed me. Now. Tonight.”

  He went still. She could see the tightening of his lips, the slight flare of his nostrils. She took a step closer. She had struck home. “I want you to do it.”

  “Do you?”

  “I won’t go on this way.” She drew a deep breath. “Touch me.”

  He didn’t move, but she could feel the tension of his body.

  “You never touch me.”

  “There’s good reason,” he said thickly.

  She moved closer, took his hand, and put it on her shoulder. It was heavy and warm through the silk of her gown. She felt a thrill of fear mixed with an odd, hot tingle. “I watched men and women couple in the House of Nicholas when I was a child. A moment of pleasure and then it was over. I know it will mean nothing to you.”

  “Then why do you want it?”

  Because she wanted to be close to him. She had wanted that closeness since she had met him all those years ago, and now she saw a way to gain it. “Why do any of your lemans wish it?”

  “But you’re not like anyone else.”

  “Ware and Thea need not know. I could meet you in the hills and—”

  “You think I wouldn’t bed you because of my friendship with Ware and Thea?” He shook his head. “You don’t know me as well as I thought. If I decided it was right for us, nothing in this world would stop me.”

  Hope leaped high within her. “It is right. You’ll see.”

  “Ah, how I wish it was.”

  “Then stop wishing and do something.” She took his other hand and plopped it on her shoulder. “Now.”

  He chuckled. “You lack a certain subtlety. Should I drag you down on these stones?”

  “If you like.” She was losing him, she realized in despair. Lust was fading, and amusement and tenderness were taking its place. She was probably doing this all wrong. She slid one of his hands down to cover her breast. “Anything you like.”

  His smile disappeared. “Selene . . .” His hand tightened on her breast and he squeezed gently, sensuously.

  She lost her breath and felt a twisting in the pit of her stomach. Her eyes widened in shock.

  “You didn’t expect that?” He squeezed again, watching her expression. “What a delight it will be to teach you pleasure.”

  She swayed toward him. “Then stop talking and do it. . . .”

  He bent and brushed his lips in the hollow of her throat. She shuddered as a wave of heat went through her.

  “But not now,” he whispered. “You’re not ready. Go back to the hall, Selene.”

  She felt as if he’d doused her with cold water. Shock turned to anger. She shoved him away. “Ready? I’m tired of that word. If it’s not now, then it will be never. I won’t wait on your convenience. I’ll go away. I’ll marry Lord Douglas or Kenneth or—” She turned on her heel. “I hate you, Kadar.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  No, she didn’t. She wished she could hate him, but the bond of years was too strong. Her eyes were glittering with tears as she looked at him over her shoulder. “Wait and see. I’ll learn to hate you.”

  He smiled sadly. “But that would break my heart.”

  “Nothing could break your heart.”

  “You could. That’s why I have to have patience.”

  “May heaven curse your patience.”

  “Actually, heaven applauds it. It’s not often a sinner embraces such a virtue.”

  “It makes no sense. Why?”

  “Trust. You don’t trust me. I find I have a great hunger for your trust.”

  “I do trust you.”

  He shook his head. “You don’t trust anyone. Except perhaps Thea. You make a pretense of trust to the rest of us.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  “I’m right. You learned hard lessons in the House of Nicholas. One of them was lack of trust.” He smiled and said gently, “But I deserve your trust. I’ve devoted a number of agonizing years to earning it. After the life I’ve lived, it stuns me that I would care this much about your complete faith in me. But I want every part of you, Selene. I won’t accept less.”

  She glared at him. “And I’m supposed to wait until you decide I deserve you?”

  “You’re supposed to let time teach you what a
fine bedrock of a man I am.” His voice lowered to silky menace. “But I’ll tell you what you’re not to do. You’re not to smile at any of those poor lads inside. It annoys me exceedingly. And if you let one of them touch you again, I won’t be as lenient as I was to Lord Douglas.”

  “You’ll not give me orders. I’ll do what I wish.” She whirled and ran up the steps and into the hall.

  She stopped behind a pillar as waves of pain washed over her. Damn him. She had tried so hard and it had all come to nothing. Why wouldn’t he—

  “Selene?” Thea was beside her. “Are you well?”

  No, she wasn’t well. She was angry and frustrated and felt as if everything inside her was hurting. She tried to smile. “Of course I’m well. Why would you think otherwise?”

  “It could be the tears that are running down your cheeks,” Thea said dryly.

  “Nonsense. I never cry.” But she was weeping now, she realized. That stubborn idiot had done this to her. “I must have something in my eye.”

  Thea nodded. “Well, come to my chamber and I’ll help you get it out.” She pushed Selene gently toward the stone stairs leading to the bedchambers. “You can’t go back into the feast like this.”

  She didn’t want to face anyone. She wanted to go to bed and pound her pillow with her fist and forget Kadar and his stupid idiocies. But that would be a victory for Kadar. She’d do exactly what he had ordered her not to do. She’d go with Thea and wash her eyes and pinch her cheeks rosy and then come down and let Kadar know she cared nothing for what he said.

  Well, perhaps she would not speak sweetly to any of the men in the hall. There was no point in it, and it wasn’t fair to them now that Kadar had issued a warning. But she would dance and laugh and let him see she didn’t care a whit for his—sweet Mary, why couldn’t she stop hurting?

  Thea opened her door. “Sit down on the stool.” She went to the bowl on the washstand and dampened a cloth. “This shouldn’t take long. Which eye is it?”

  Selene dropped down on the stool. “We both know I have nothing in my eye.”

  “I wasn’t sure you were ready to admit it yet.” Thea moved the damp cloth gently over Selene’s cheeks. “You shouldn’t blame Kadar. You made him very angry.”

  “No, I must never blame Kadar,” she said bitterly. “Kadar is perfect in your eyes. I’m the one who causes you disturbance.”

  “Kadar isn’t perfect, but I’d trust him with everything I own.”

  Trust again. “Then you trust a fool. He won’t take what’s offered him and yet he expects me to wait while he samples every wench in Scotland.”

  Thea chuckled. “Perhaps not every wench. He does spend a good deal of time at sea.”

  “Probably to get away from me.”

  “It’s a possibility. I must ask him if he’s using our silk trade as an excuse. It seems a good deal of trouble for him to undertake to avoid one young girl. Though it’s true you can be a great deal of bother on occasion.”

  “You’re laughing at me.”

  Thea caressed her cheek. “Never.”

  “It hurts, Thea.” She leaned her head on her sister’s breast. “I never wanted this. I used to think you and Ware were foolish, you know. It seemed very dangerous to care so deeply about someone.

  What if they left you or what if they died, like Mama died?”

  “It’s always dangerous to care. One must just have faith.”

  Faith, trust. Why did everyone throw those words at her?

  “Kadar says I have no trust. Isn’t that stupid?”

  Thea was silent.

  Selene lifted her head. “Thea?”

  “I didn’t realize he could see that. But then, Kadar is more perceptive than most people. I can see how your not trusting him would matter to Kadar. He does not give affection lightly, and his feelings for you are very strong. He would want all and resent you holding anything back.” She stroked Selene’s hair from her face.

  “It’s not your fault that you’re so wary. Everyone you’ve ever loved has gone away from you.”

  “Not you.”

  “Even me. When I ran away from the House of Nicholas and left you there. I knew that would hurt you terribly.”

  “But you came back.”

  “But you weren’t sure I would, were you?”

  “Of course I was.” Then she shook her head. They had never lied to each other. “No, but I hoped . . .”

  “You see?”

  “That was a long time ago. I’m older now.”

  “And you love Kadar?”

  “I do . . . care about him.”

  Thea shook her head. “You’re too frightened to even say the words. I think Kadar may be a very wise man.”

  “What are a few words?” She flared, stung. “I think you must be as stupid as Kadar.”

  “Do you?”

  She was instantly remorseful. Thea was everything that was loyal and loving. “No, I’m the stupid one. Forgive me. You should slap me.”

  Thea smiled. “Not while you’re feeling this unhappy. Though I admit to wanting to give you a thorough tongue-lashing earlier.”

  Selene stared at her in surprise. “Why?”

  “I wanted no bloodshed tonight.”

  “I would never have let it come to that.” But she had been too absorbed in her plan to prod Kadar to notice Thea had been worried, she thought guiltily. “You know I would do nothing to hurt you.”

  Thea shrugged. “I know. Sometimes you don’t think.”

  “It’s true. I’m a terrible, terrible person. I was selfish.” She jumped to her feet. “Come. We’ll go back downstairs and I’ll be very, very good. Kadar will think it’s because of him, but you’ll know. And tomorrow you stay late in bed and then spend the day playing with my godson. I’ll tend the guests and then make the round of the cottages to check the weaving myself.”

  “You must be contrite.” Thea smiled in amusement as she moved toward the door. “We’ll see.”

  But she would probably be up at dawn as usual, Selene thought. Perhaps she would mention to Ware how weary Thea looked. It would need only a word for him to become passionately concerned. When Thea had come down with the fever last year after giving birth to Niall, Ware had nearly fallen apart. Selene had never seen a man so besotted with his wife.

  But would he remain enamored when Thea was no longer young and lovely? Nicholas had often displayed a passion for the youngest and comeliest women slaves, but the older women received little of his attention. And the men Nicholas allowed to use his women chose only the ones blooming with youth and beauty. She knew Thea believed that Ware would love her forever, but how could she be so sure that—

  Trust. Shock jolted through her. Ware was her friend, and yet she feared he would destroy her sister with his fickleness. If she distrusted Ware, was Kadar right about her lack of trust in him? She had always thought she knew herself, but she had deliberately blinded herself to—

  “Selene?” Thea was at the door, gazing at her inquiringly.

  “Coming.” She moved quickly across the room. She would think of this more later. There was the rest of the evening to get through now, and she must help Thea all she could to make up for her lapse.

  Trust . . .

  MY GOD, he wanted her.

  Kadar’s hand tightened on his goblet, his gaze following Selene as she moved about the hall.

  She was being meek and polite as an angel sent from heaven. Talking to the old ladies sitting at the side of the room, trailing behind Thea, and helping with the servants.

  Not once had she looked at him since she returned to the room with Thea, but he knew she was as aware of him as he was of her.

  The awareness was always there. It had been there from the beginning. Since the first time he saw her in Nicholas’s house, her thin back scarred from that bastard’s whip, he felt a bond he had never felt before for anyone.

  Why was he still here? The little devil was not going to look at him, and she had evidently decided not to fur
ther provoke him.

  Tonight.

  He had no confidence she would give up entirely. She was as stubborn and determined as Thea and far more single-minded. It was probably best if he left Montdhu for a while. Perhaps when he returned she would be able to give him what he wanted.

  Or more likely he would toss this damnable caution aside and forget everything but taking her to bed. Why not do it now? It shouldn’t be so important to him. Nothing was perfect. His life had been full of compromises. He had grown up on the streets of Damascus, the bastard son of a Frank who had taken his Armenian mother and left her alone and with child. He had indulged in every kind of wickedness and dark pleasure, from the whorehouses of Damascus to the band of assassins led by Sinan, the Old Man of the Mountain. He knew all about filth and death and the few precious moments that made life worthwhile.

  Then Selene had come into his life, only a child but touching, bonding with him, stubbornly holding back the darkness. It was a gift beyond anything he had ever hoped to possess. He should accept what Selene could give and be content. But, dammit, he wanted this one thing in their lives to be without blemish.

  She had paused beneath a torch; her hair shimmered in its flickering light. She would never be the beauty Thea was, but her spirit lit this smoky hall like a thousand torches. He wanted to warm his hands before that fire, hold her, teach her . . .

  God, he was thickening, hardening as he looked at her.

  He couldn’t stand this. He would cross the hall and hold out his hand to her, take her from these people and make—

  He muttered a curse and strode out of the hall.

  The fresh air did nothing to cool him where he needed cooling. He would probably not sleep this night. It would serve him well. He had always thought martyrs deserved their fate, and he was being disgustingly noble.

  “Lord Kadar?”

  He turned to see young Haroun, Ware’s page, hurrying toward him. “What is it?”

  “A ship has docked in the harbor.”

  He stiffened. “Our harbor?”

  “No, the harbor at Dalkeith, where we first landed when we came to this land. Robert sighted it and rode to give us word.”

  It had come. They had always feared the Knights Templar would discover Ware was not dead and pursue him. “Only one ship?”