Lady of Lyonsbridge

by Ana Seymour

  Don’t people sometimes just fall in love, Father? She looked up at the wooden beams of the ceiling, sending the silent query up to the heavens. Weren’t you simply in love, you and my mother?

  Thomas was stirring. His eyes were closed but he reached for her and drew her against his chest. She allowed herself to be pulled against him. His warmth and the strength of his arms around her felt right and comforting and sensual. Banishing all reason, she let herself be enveloped.

  He opened his eyes, obviously surprised to find her pliant and willing in his arms. She smiled at him and he drew in a quick breath.

  “Alyce?” he asked, sleep still clogging his throat.

  “Nay,” she whispered. “’Tis Rose. I’ve come to waken you before the morning sun can rise and catch us at our games.”

  He turned her slightly so that she rested against one of his arms. “Naughty Rose,” he murmured. “What if your mistress catches us?”

  “She might have me flogged.”

  “Aye, she’s a hard one.” He began to drop light kisses along the edge of her bottom lip.

  Alyce shook her head. “Nay, she’s not as hard as you think.”

  Thomas grinned. “I know she’s not,” he said very softly. He continued the kisses across her upper lip, then moved to her cheeks, her forehead. He kissed her eyes shut, then continued along her temple until Alyce felt as if she were floating in a veritable sea of kisses.

  “I did this badly last night, Alyce,” Thomas began, his voice serious. “The first thing I should have said is that I—”

  But Alyce didn’t want words. She lifted herself up to whisper in his ear, “Shh. It’s not Alyce, but Rose—the saucy serving wench who wants nothing more than to spend the morning in lovemaking.”

  Thomas was only too happy to oblige. He rolled her over so that she was lying on top of him, their stomachs pressed together. “I like my wenches saucy,” he said with a grin. The hardening of his lower body against hers reinforced the words.

  She gave a merry laugh and, with her elbows planted on his chest, put a hand along each cheek to feel the scrape of his whiskers against her fingers. “And I like my men bold,” she said, her blue eyes flaring.

  “Oh, do you now?” he asked softly. His voice had roughened, and his eyes had grown narrow. In an instant, he flipped her over so that he was on top with her pinned underneath. “Then bold I’ll be,” he said, before plundering her mouth with his.

  It robbed her of breath and of reason. With tongue and lips he stoked a fire of longing that soon had her writhing beneath him, wanting more.

  He threw back the covers with sudden impatience, and together they rid themselves of the few clothes they’d worn to sleep, eager to feel the merging of their bare skin. His was almost hot to the touch, still warm from the cocoon of blankets. Hers was cool, but heated instantly everywhere they touched.

  He pulled his mouth away and found a breast, then urged it to life with the tip of his tongue. “I never knew a rose could taste so sweet,” he murmured as he turned his attentions to the other breast, making the tugging more insistent.

  She gave a moan of pleasure at the back of her throat. The waves of feeling had already begun. Sensing her sudden need, he pulled away just long enough to join their bodies. She cried his name, and he held her tightly as completion rocked her.

  For several more moments he stayed quiet inside her while he again kissed her neck and her mouth and her breasts. It wasn’t long before the feeling began to build anew. This time he moved with her, swiftly, taking her up and up until the intensity burst on them both simultaneously.

  For a moment she lay utterly still, while his head came down to lie heavy on her chest. Then she began to laugh. She felt free and incredibly happy, as if every care in the world had been lifted from her. She could feel his answering smile against her breast.

  After several moments, he raised his head. “Was that bold enough for you, milady?” he asked.

  “It was perfect,” she said with feeling. She smiled up into his eyes. “Aye, it was perfect.”

  “You’re the perfect one, sweetheart. And I’m the luckiest man in England to have you belong to me.”

  She belonged to no one, came the immediate rebuttal, but she didn’t speak the words. She was too happy to argue. For the moment, she just wanted to lie with Thomas and enjoy the kind of simple pleasure that can be achieved between a man and a woman in love.

  “I’m glad you came back,” she said.

  “I came back last night, but you were sleeping so soundly I didn’t want to wake you.”

  “It had been a hard day,” she observed with just a trace of irony.

  He gathered her in his arms and kissed her gently. “My poor darling. I want to keep you from ever having hard days. That’s precisely why I wanted to be your husband—to make you happy and protect you from anything bad.”

  She didn’t want to talk about marriage. “You made me happy this morning,” she said, sticking with the safer topic.

  “Not as happy as you made me, sweetheart. After last night, I was afraid you’d never let me near you again. What changed your mind?”

  She couldn’t answer. She couldn’t tell him that she had lain awake examining his face in the morning light, and had realized that she was in love with him. “I believe I’m less ill-tempered in the morning hours,” she said instead.

  He gave a hearty laugh. “I’ll remember that. Though now that I’m learning some of your secrets, I might be able to convince you to abandon your ill temper at other hours of the day.” He put his hand playfully over one of her bare breasts. “And night,” he added with a wicked grin.

  She smiled back. “I believe you might at that.”

  “In fact, shall we test how milady’s temper fares at—” he glanced out the guardhouse window at the height of the sun “—midmorning?”

  She giggled and allowed him to pull her back into his arms. “I have a feeling midmorning is also an auspicious time of day,” she answered.

  Then his mouth closed hers and neither of them talked for a very long time.

  “I see my brief sermon last night took effect,” Kenton said as he joined his friend in the stables, where Thomas was helping a lad saddle two horses. “I just saw the lady Alyce practically dancing through the hall, whistling one of those love ballads she professes to despise. And you have the appearance of the cook’s boy who’s managed to secret away an entire apple pastry all for himself.”

  Thomas grinned. “I’ve eaten nothing all day,” he said.

  Kenton shook his head. “That’s not wise, my friend. A man in your circumstances needs sustenance.” He pulled a crust of bread from his pocket. “Here, eat this before you swoon from hunger.”

  Thomas waved away his friend’s offering. “A man in love doesn’t need food,” he said.

  Kenton groaned. “Ah, Thomas, you’ve been hit bad. I take it you’ve managed to convince the lady that you do love her, after all. You’ve told her so?”

  Thomas finished tightening the cinch on his saddle and looked over to see that Alyce’s horse was ready. “I didn’t need to tell her. The convincing was done in other ways.”

  Kenton shook his head. “Aye, those ways are good, too. But don’t forget about the telling, Thomas. It’s as important as the other.”

  Thomas grinned at his friend. “If she were yours, how much time would you waste in talking?”

  “As much time as it takes to be sure there are no more misunderstandings between us.”

  “Those days are over, Kenton. Alyce and I are in love, and nothing is ever going to come between us again.”

  Kenton swatted his friend on the back. “I suppose that means you’re not inviting me to ride along with the two of you this afternoon?”

  “Aye, Kent, that’s exactly what it means,” Thomas answered dryly. Then he gathered the reins of both mounts and headed out of the stable.

  They’d left behind the crowded streets of Nottingham town and ridden out into the coun
tryside, enjoying the mild air of early spring. Alyce had brought along a basket of food, since they had missed the early meal of the day and were too hungry to wait until evening.

  They rode easily, without hurry and without direction, happy to have the strife that had surrounded the betrothal behind them. They could very well be a servant girl and her swain going out to picnic on a beautiful day, Alyce thought happily.

  They followed alongside a winding stream that led them up into some gentle hills, taking them out of sight of the castle and the town.

  “It’s like we’ve found our own private world, Thomas,” Alyce said. She was still giddy from the morning lovemaking and had the craziest impulse to shout.

  “We have, sweetheart, a world of you and me.”

  “It’s a beautiful day,” she said, feeling as if happiness was bubbling out of her.

  Thomas pulled his horse to a stop. “Aye. But is there to be food in this world of ours? For, in truth, I’ve worked a hard day’s labor already today with no nourishment.”

  Alyce wrinkled her nose at him. “Fie on you, sir, to call it work.”

  He dismounted and came to lift her off her horse. “I’m teasing, love. ’Twas the most enjoyable morning’s labor I’ve had in a long time.”

  She slid into his arms, but held him off when he tried to kiss her. “In a long time?” she asked.

  He grinned. “Or ever. Aye, I meant to say ever.”

  She laughed and rocked up on her toes to give him the desired kiss. He held her there a moment, making it more lingering than either had intended, and they were each a little breathless when they ended the embrace.

  “Food,” Alyce reminded him.

  He looked regretful, but finally said, “Aye, food.” Then he amended with a grin, “Food first.”

  She smiled at him over her shoulder as she unfastened the basket from her mount’s saddle. Then, while he led the horses down to the stream for some water, she sat on the grassy bank and pulled out two meat pasties wrapped in cloth, and a jug of wine.

  Though the kiss had distracted them for a moment, once they started eating they both discovered that they were famished. They finished the juicy pies down to the last crumb and drank much of the wine. When they’d finished, Thomas lay back on the bank with a contented groan. “All the angels of heaven could not offer a more perfect day than this,” he said.

  She reached for his hand. “I never thought I’d be so happy,” she agreed.

  He tugged at her fingers until she drew close enough so that their legs touched. “Does that mean you’ve forgiven me for asking the king for your hand?” he asked.

  She didn’t answer for a long moment. “I wish you’d asked me instead.”

  “What would you have said?”

  She laughed. “I’m not sure.”

  “You see?” he said. “I was right to do it my way.”

  She wasn’t going to agree with him, but she didn’t want to argue. “So the prophecy came true,” she murmured.

  Thomas looked blank. “Prophecy?”

  “Aye. When I went back to the castle to change my clothes for our ride, Lettie reminded me that old Maeve’s prophecy has come true. You remember—that night she said I’d be forced into a betrothal to the king’s choice.”

  Thomas looked unimpressed. “She also said there’d be wolves on the moon or some such nonsense, sweetheart. It’s of no account.”

  “No, the wolves were howling the night she got the vision. The moon was…” She saw that he wasn’t interested in the topic. “Anyway, I did have to marry the king’s choice. We just didn’t know that it would be you.”

  “But you’re now glad that it was.”

  “Aye.”

  He seized her hand and planted a kiss in the middle of her palm. Then, his eyes mischievous, he held the palm out and peered intently as if he were reading it. “Ah, milady, I see wonderful things in your future.”

  She laughed. “What things do you see, oh prophet?”

  He turned her hand first one way and then another. “I see you very happy with a wonderful husband.”

  “Wonderful, is he?”

  “Aye, and handsome, too. Brave.”

  “Modest, as well.”

  He waggled the hand a little, peered intently, and then said, “Eh, maybe not so modest as some.”

  She bent down alongside him to stare at her hand. “You see all that in there?”

  “Aye,” he said. “And children. You’ll have a dozen.”

  “At least,” she agreed dryly.

  He looked at her palm again. “Aye, at least.”

  With a giggle, she pulled her hand out of his grasp. “I think you should stick to soldiering and leave the fortune-telling to the gypsies.”

  “I don’t need to be a fortune-teller to see a happy future for us, sweetheart,” he told her, his expression serious.

  Her voice grew soft. “I hope you’re right.”

  “And you have forgiven me?” he asked again.

  She had—almost. “Satisfy my curiosity first. What did you tell the king when you two were alone? Why did he suddenly decide to grant your request about the marriage?”

  When Thomas took a long time to answer, she looked down at him and was surprised to see that he appeared to be hiding something. “Thomas?” she asked again.

  “’Twas merely a man-to-man conversation,” he said with studied nonchalance. “I convinced him that you needed me to protect you.”

  A wave of cold ran through her. She’d asked the question casually, but now it seemed to take on a significance she hadn’t expected. Because for some unknown reason, Thomas was lying to her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  She knew it as surely as she knew her own name. Whatever it was Thomas had discussed with the king, he didn’t want her to know about it. Suddenly the meat pasty felt thick and greasy in her stomach.

  “You spoke of nothing else?” she asked.

  “Nay. It didn’t take much to convince him. The king owed me a favor, and how could he better repay it than by giving me the most beautiful woman in all his kingdom?”

  The pretty words danced in her head, but didn’t make her happy as they would have a few moments earlier. All the suspicions that her father had planted came back to her. Thomas didn’t want her to know what he had told the king. The king owed him a favor. Did the king give her to Thomas as wife because she was beautiful or because the poor knight he sought to reward was looking for a woman of property who could make him rich?

  Thomas seemed to realize that the direction of the conversation was causing her distress. “We won’t talk about the betrothal anymore, sweetheart. It’s done. Let’s forget about it and go back to being Thomas and Rose, two simple folk enjoying the pleasures of a beautiful spring day.”

  She mustered a wan smile. “I wish it were true,” she said.

  Thomas sat up and pulled her into his arms. “We’ll make it true, sweetling. Here, have a drink of wine.”

  They’d brought no tumblers. He tipped the jug while she drank a big, sweet gulp. Then he helped himself before he stuffed the cork back in the top. Without loosening his hold on her, he leaned over to set the jug a safe distance away in the grass. Then he began to kiss her, gently.

  “Two simple folk,” he murmured, deepening the kiss.

  She didn’t resist, but it took several moments before her body once again overruled her head and began to respond to his caresses. Once it did, however, she forgot all about his evasive comments and everything else as all her attention centered on the feel of his mouth and hands on her body.

  Soon they both wanted more, but Alyce murmured, “’Tis broad daylight.” They looked around, laughing and a little self-conscious, to be sure they were not visible from the road.

  “The rabbits and birds will not be offended by our love play, sweetheart,” Thomas assured her. Then, keeping covered by as much clothing as they could for modesty, they once again came together in a delicious union.

  It was only a
fterward, as Thomas lay dozing next to her in the soft grass, that the doubts began anew. Long ago back at Sherborne, Thomas had said that he loved her. Their lovemaking certainly made that appear to be true. But was that truly why he had married her? Or was he just like all the men her father had warned her against? Was Thomas using her to get his hands on Sherborne?

  She gave a sigh and sat up to retrieve her clothes.

  “’Tis obvious that the man’s in love with ye, Allie. He doesn’t take his eyes off ye, and when one of the other knights gives ye more than a passing glance, Sir Thomas glowers at the poor man until he turns in the other direction.”

  Lettie was helping Alyce bathe in a tiny tin tub before she and Thomas were to join the king for dinner in the great hall. As she had her entire life, Alyce found herself pouring out her doubts to her faithful nurse, who was giving them short shrift.

  “He could be jealous and still want my estates,” Alyce pointed out.

  “Aye, and what’s wrong with that if he’s in love with ye, too? Contrary to what yer father tried to tell ye yer whole life, luv, there’s no shame in a man having a measure of ambition.”

  “But then how can I be sure that he wants me as much as he does Sherborne?”

  Lettie gave Alyce’s back a none-too-gentle scrub. “Lass, any man with eyes to see with and a head to think with could not help but want ye for yerself. But if ye don’t know that by now, perhaps ’tis a lesson ye’ll never learn. In which case, ye can just go back to Sherborne and live out yer life as a shriveled up old lady, just like yer nurse.”

  Alyce turned around to smile at the older woman. “You’re not the least bit shriveled, Lettie dear. And you have many more years before I’ll let you call yourself old. The two of us shall grow old together.”

  Lettie’s eyes were sad. “I’d not wish such a life on ye, Allie. Ye should love and be loved, then spread yer love to children and grandchildren. But to do all that, ye have to be willing to have faith in love itself. Ye could start by putting a little more trust in the man who’s to be yer husband.”