Love Never Lies

by Rachel Donnelly

  “‘Tis not my place to judge how he wrestles his demons.”

  “Or, are you too selfish to care?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Are you saying I don’t love my brother? If so, you’re mistaken.”

  Isabeau lifted a brow at this startling revelation. Mayhap if pricked, he would actually produce blood. Up until now she had assumed him incapable of affection. ‘Twas good to know he loved someone. “Then why do you not speak with him? A wound festers if not exposed to air.”

  “Mayhap you’ve heard another saying—you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink.”

  “Might I suggest you…”

  “Nay you may not.” He dropped his hands, releasing her arms, a mocking smile playing about his lips. “Believe me when I say, ‘tis more complicated than that.”

  She could not help but smile. “Strange, if I remember correctly, I said the same thing about my sister, but you weren’t inclined to listen then.”

  “Nor am I inclined to now,” he said with gruff finality. “The hour grows late. Get thee to bed, ere I do what my brother advises and take what satisfaction I crave here and now.”

  He did not have to tell her twice.

  She spun on her heel and hastened down the corridor to her bedchamber. After ducking inside, she leaned against the door and took a long shuddering breath, trying to forget the desire in his eyes—the heat of it inches from her lips. How long before he forgot what her virtue was worth and his lust got the better of him?

  She shivered.

  But nay, ‘twas foolish to allow it to affect her so. Fortin was too greedy for that. If he were going to act upon his baser instincts and forfeit his precious ransom, he’d have done so already.

  Wouldn’t he?

  ***

  Dominic halted in mid-stride, sweat glistening on his brow from the weight of the log they carried. “Are you expecting guests?”

  “Nay. Does it look like I am?” Alec swung his end of the log just as Dominic slackened his grip. It landed on the bank of the river with a hollow thud, against the score of oak timbers they had already unloaded from the wagon.

  “A party approaches on horseback.”

  Alec shifted his gaze to where Dominic squinted into the distance to the South. Had there been any danger, one of the guards on sentry would have alerted them by now, which could only mean his neighbor Langley and his daughters had taken it upon themselves to arrive unannounced.

  If so, he would send them on their way with all haste. He had neither the patience nor the time to play the merry host. His men were hauling more logs from the woods at this very moment, and he intended to see them unloaded before dark. He required at least two ships for trading come spring, and he had no intention of freezing his hands in the dead of winter to accomplish it.

  As the party drew nearer the blue fish on their banner came into focus, fluttering against the cloud ridden sky.

  Alec expelled a curse. “You told them about the tournament, didn’t you? You just couldn’t help yourself.”

  “I may have mentioned it.”

  “Mentioned it? You must have done more than mention it, else our sire and that witch wouldn’t have found their way here.”

  “They were at court, paying their respects to the King soon after I arrived. How think you Beaufort’s man found me, if not for their loose tongues?”

  Alec was not surprised. His father was ever eager to boast of his sons’ skill, not only Dominic, but he and Christian as well. The only thing his father liked better was to pit them against each other until they were at each other’s throats, frothing at the mouth to win his praise.

  It caused much unrest when they were young, as they fought tooth and nail, attempting to prove themselves. ‘Twas not until many long lonely hours in the saddle, during the crusade, in a sandstorm separated from his party, suffering days and days of thirst and hunger when he experienced an epiphany, finally realizing the truth.

  The only thing he had to prove was to himself. His brothers were not there to compete with him. He either fought to survive or died. It had nothing to do with anyone else. Nor did the rest of his life.

  In the end God was the only witness—the only force he must reckon with.

  But old habits die hard, especially those instilled from birth. The sight of his father riding toward him made Alec fortify himself with a deep breath and straighten his back for the battle ahead.

  He ran one hand through his sweat dampened hair. “Gods teeth, Dominic! That’s all I need right now.”

  “Do you think I want them here—father breathing down my neck, when I have a tournament to fight?” Dominic mumbled a few curses of his own. “That’s why I’ve been happy to compete in Normandy whenever I could?”

  Alec lifted one brow. ‘Twas not their father’s well-meant preaching on the art of warfare, but other matters that kept Dominic from home, namely the guilt of bedding his father’s wife.

  Not that it was his fault. Neither of them knew their father had married that night they arrived home. He was planning to tell them the following morn—a surprise he’d said. ‘Twas certainly a surprise to Dominic, else he would not have lain with the bitch when she came to their solar.

  But there was no time to discuss that now, with the cause of Dominic’s misery drawing closer by the minute on her dappled grey mare. “Tis a good thing Langley opened his hall for the celebration,” Alec said. “There’s no room for them here.”

  “Good luck convincing our father of that.” A weary desperation clung to Dominic’s short laugh. “Give them my bedchamber. I’ll go to Langley’s instead.”

  “Oh no, you’re not getting out of it that easy,” Alec told him. ‘Twas high time Dominic faced his fears. “Besides, ‘tis unlikely Abigail will desire to stay. Highburn lacks the splendor she’s accustomed to. One look at the place and she’ll head her palfrey south as fast as she came.”

  At least, he prayed she would.

  ***

  “Move your prisoner then,” Abigail said with a dismissive wave. How was it that they were even having this conversation? “Let her sleep in the hall with the other serfs. Your father and I’ll take Dominic’s chamber. He can have the one she’s in.”

  “I’m afraid not,” Alec said smoothly, barely sparing her a glance. “She’s a lady. Her station demands better treatment than that.”

  Abigail regarded him down the length of her nose from the other end of the high table, trying not to let his cold arrogance get under her skin. After traveling all this way to see Dominic, she wasn’t about to be parted from him now. “Then put her in your bedchamber on a pallet. If her virtue’s her worth, ‘tis the best way to guard it until her family arrives with the ransom.”

  Dominic and Alec exchanged glances over the top of their father’s head.

  “One would think you don’t want us here.” She gave a little sniff for good measure, then turned to her husband with her lower lip thrust forward in a well practiced pout. “Are you not insulted, my dear Darcy, at Alec’s lack of welcome after traveling so far just to visit him.”

  Darcy lifted a brow beneath his short-cropped head of black hair before piercing her with his cool blue stare. “’Twas your idea to drag me half across the country without sending word first. Serves you right, if you’re shuffled off to the closest neighbor’s bed. Alec’s busy building his ships. Dominic has a tournament to prepare for.”

  She ignored the note of pride in Darcy’s voice, giving a toss of her head. “There, you see!” The sudden movement sent her heavy coil of dark brown braids off balance, causing a pain to shoot up her neck. Her voice rose to a squeal. “Your father is insulted. For shame on both of you, for not offering him the proper welcome he deserves.”

  “Cease your prattling, woman,” Darcy said with a low growl. “’Twill all be settled in due course. You’ll not be forced to sleep with the hounds.”

  Abigail flashed her husband a sharp look under her lashes at his reprimand. She had forgotten how puffed
up and boorish he became in the presence of his sons. Well, let him stride about like the proud cock. Mayhap the exertion would prove too great for his old heart and it would finally give out as she had so long wished.

  But that would be too much to hope for.

  Though twice her age, he had the spleen of a man half his age. No one would know to look at him he was two score and seven. His organs must be as leathery as his skin.

  Curse him for living well past his prime.

  And curse him twice for having the handsomest sons in all of Cornwall when she was chained to him. ‘Twas them she imagined when he rode her, huffing and puffing, sweat trickling down his chin. If only her father had seen fit to betrothe her to one of them. She would not need to take such risks to sate her lust with other men.

  Christian, his eldest son, was too bewitched by his new wife to spare her more than a passing glance, and Alec had always treated her with cool civility. She could not count on either of them to provide for her security when Darcy breathed his last.

  But, Dominic’s blood still burned for her as it had that night when they made love in his solar. Why else did he go to such great lengths to avoid her, if not to save himself the pain of desiring a woman he could not have.

  Yea, he still wanted her, she was sure of it.

  All he needed was a little convincing.

  ***

  Isabeau hastened up the backstairs, desperate for a good scrub. After organizing the storeroom off the kitchen all afternoon with Myrtle, she looked a fright, her gray kirtle smeared with grime, musty cobwebs clinging to her sleeves. If she hurried she might sneak a quick dip at the bathhouse before Fortin and his men returned.

  If only she could go to the river to bathe. She and Nicola had often bathed and swam in the small lake near her uncle’s fortress, until Barak got wind of it and Nicola refused to take the chance of him discovering them.

  Isabeau had offered to help scrub the laundry, but Myrtle forbade it, saying in no uncertain terms was she to leave the courtyard, or Fortin would have her head.

  She let go a long sigh as she pushed opened the door to her solar.

  The sight she beheld made her suck the same air she’d released right back in.

  The chamber was all but empty, her casket of clothes as well as her personal affects missing.

  Her heart gave a leap.

  Had her ransom arrived?

  She prayed not, for it was too soon for Nicola to have responded to her plea.

  Which could only mean, Barak had come.

  Dominic’s appearance in the doorway gave her a start. “My pardon for inconveniencing you.” He offered an abashed smile. “I offered to go to Langley’s, but Alec would not hear of it.”

  Isabeau stared back at him stupidly. She had no idea what he was talking about, but her heart began to slow, sensing it had nothing to do with her and the arrival of her ransom. She moved aside to allow Dominic’s squire to pass, lugging his hauberk in one hand and helm in the other. “Has Lord Beaufort returned?”

  “If only we could be so lucky.” Dominic made a comical grimace as though he had just bitten down on a stalk of green rhubarb. “Nay, my lady. ‘Tis our beloved father, and our not so beloved stepmother, who have darkened Highburn’s door.”

  “But, if you’re to take this chamber, where am I to sleep?”

  His apologetic smile warned her that his answer would be less than satisfactory. “I would have had you stay right here, but alas Alec doesn’t agree. It seems he doesn’t trust me. For good reason I’m afraid. Your virtue would hardly be safe in my hands. I’ve a weakness for winsome maids. You’re to sleep in Alec’s chamber, I’m grieved to say.”

  “WWhat?” she sputtered. “As long as I breathe, I’ll not share a bedchamber with him!”

  Alec appeared in the doorway, narrowing his gaze on her.

  Her heart thumped faster, as it always did when she laid eyes on him. She thrust her chin forward, wishing she had bitten her tongue. He didn’t appear happy, apparently he was less pleased than Dominic at the arrival of their guests. She should have waited until they were alone to voice her displeasure. As stubborn as he was, ‘twas unlikely he would back down in front of his brother.

  “’Tis merely the same chamber, not the same bed.” Alec’s gaze shifted to Dominic. “Many thanks for breaking the news so gently. Now instead of one hot-tempered wench, I have two on my hands.”

  Dominic’s ale-flushed cheeks deepened to a darker hue. “Oh no, don’t blame me. I offered to go to Langley’s, but you forced me to stay here with that plague of womanhood—to exorcise my ghosts, isn’t that what you said?”

  Alec’s voice rose in response. “Goading her anger was not what I had in mind.”

  “How do you expect me to keep a civil tongue in my head when Abigail makes her lust for me so clear? In front of our father no less? I merely drew her aside and advised her privately, she should keep her distance, ere she expose herself as the incestuous slut she is.”

  Isabeau opened her mouth to speak, as they seemed to have forgotten she was still in the room.

  Alec’s wry voice cut her off, “’Twould be wiser to ignore her than show what effect she has on you.”

  “I’ve ignored her these past five years, lot of good it’s done. She’s too thick-pated to take the hint. Like a headless snake, she keeps slithering back. Ha! She’s sly, I’ll give her that. All of her wailing and whining that we’ve not shown her welcome is more to keep me here than any insult I’ve caused. She wouldn’t know an insult if it slapped her in the face.”

  Isabeau cleared her throat, fearing she had already heard far more than she cared to. “Now that all of the sordid details of your family have been aired, mayhap we can discuss the nature of my lodging.”

  Alec turned away from his brother, lifting a brow her way. “If I remember correctly, ‘twas you who suggested the airing. Are you telling me now, the stench is too much for you?”

  She sucked in a long deep breath in an attempt to control her ire. ‘Twas foolish to lose her temper. It only reminded him of the power he held over her. “Your family’s trouble doesn’t concern me.”

  “I don’t blame you.” Dominic laughed, staggering toward the bed. “We’re a misbegotten lot.”

  At the sound of his hopeless tone and the sight of his piteous state, Isabeau regretted her words. How she could conjure sympathy for a member of Fortin’s family she did not know, except it went against her nature to wish anyone ill. Mayhap ‘twas Dominic’s open manner and easy nature that made her want to protect him just as much as Alec did.

  “I shouldn’t have said that, Dominic,” she said in a gentler tone. “My quarrel is with your brother, not you. I’m truly sorry for your trouble, and would not wish you ill.”

  Dominic turned to slant a crooked smile. “Sometimes families are more trouble than they’re worth, are they not?”

  She nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly as she turned to leave, a jumble of conflicted emotions at war in her breast. But she was not willing to give up yet. She paced in the corridor until Alec followed, closing the chamber door behind him. “You need not share your bedchamber with me. I can sleep with Myrtle in the hall.”

  He tilted his dark head to give her a long look. “Even if I did trust you, which I do not, ’twould be unseemly for a lady to sleep in a hall full of men.”

  “And yet you would shame me in front of your family, by closeting me in the same chamber with you, like some… whore? If you won’t think of my reputation, think of yours. Your honor will surely slip when others learn of the situation.”

  “My honor is not in question, nor is my family’s,” he said coolly. “They’re well aware of why you’re here.”

  “And you suggest mine is?” she asked with a lightness she did not feel. “If you wish to condemn me through association, then I believe I have a right to do the same, for it seems, from what I’ve just heard, your family is not as perfect as you’d have me believe.”

  His features darke
ned. “Abigail is my stepmother. She’s no blood of mine. You, on the other hand, must take responsibility for what your sister has wrought. ‘Tis your duty as her kin.”

  Isabeau glared back at him, fists clinched as tight as her heart. But, she would not argue. Anything she said would be a waste of breath. He had made up his mind about her the moment he had heard her name.

  Why should she care what his family thought? When the ransom was paid, she would never see them again.

  She turned away, but then, remembered the filthy state she was in. The hour grew late. The men would return from the river anon. Myrtle and Gwen would be busy serving in the hall. She dared not go to the bathhouse without someone to stand guard. She could not even have a sponge bath, sharing a room with him.

  She spun back around, though she attempted to quell it, a note of desperation crept into her tone. “‘Tis very convenient your concern for propriety only extends as far as it affects you, but how am I to bathe—have any privacy at all, sharing a bedchamber with you?”

  “You gave up any rights when you became my prisoner.” He lifted one brow, almost daring her to argue. “But, I have never taken advantage of my power over you, which bears proof I’m not the devil you make me out to be.”

  She let out a loud puff of air. “What of the clothes you bade me sew when you knew very well ‘twould take me all night? You stole my dowry, for heaven sake! Do you wish me to thank you for that?”

  He reached out a hand to cup her chin, forcing her to look at him. “But I haven’t harmed you—not in the way another captor might. I charge you to name another man who could look upon a maid as fair as you and not make her his mistress.”

  A shiver rattled through her limbs. “I know no man as greedy as you.” No sooner had the words left her lips than she regretted them.

  He went very still.

  His blue eyes glittered like a winter’s eve in the dim light of the corridor. “’Tis true, I’ll not give up half of the ransom to bed you. But a willingness to prosper does not constitute greed, nor does demanding what was taken from me.” He snaked out his hand to clasp her by the waist, drawing her into his arms before she could think, let alone turn to flee. “But lest you feel insulted or think me weak, I’ll show you what I fight against each day in order to secure my future.”