Wild Is My Love

by Janelle Taylor

  When the meal was over Isobail met with Moran. “I have good news, my son. For years you have desired Princess Alysa. Would you like to marry her and become the future ruler of this land?”

  Moran’s astonishment could not be concealed. He grinned and said, “Nothing would please’ me more, Mother. But Alysa does not care for me. How can I win her favor?”

  “It is not necessary, my son, but it would help if she turned to you.” She repeated her recent conversation with Alysa, and hinted, “Woo her swiftly and persistently. Who else is more worthy of her? If she does not choose you, I will command it. She fears me and she will obey.”

  Isobail read the lust in her son’s eyes, lust for Alysa and power. She thrilled to that insight, knowing it would be easy to draw her son into her confidence soon. “Until Alric dies I will rule Damnonia. After me, you will rule as Alysa’s husband.” Yes, her son would make the perfect ruler for her in this land, as her throne would be elsewhere: Logris, her ancient land of Iceni…

  In his excitement, Moran lifted her from the floor and swung her around, then embraced her tightly. They shared laughter and hugs.

  “Go to Malvern Castle while I am away. Begin to woo her. She is vulnerable and might respond quickly. I will ask Kelton’s permission for your leave, but he could not refuse me anything. I will remain here a day or two to pretend to visit my old home, then I shall visit Lord Orin. I shall return home Saturday. If you have won her favor, I will announce your betrothal that day.”

  “But I am not a knight yet, Mother. What if others ask for her?”

  “Soon Kelton will die and you will become owner of this castle,” she divulged, to test him. “You and Alysa will live here until Alric dies.”

  Astonishment filled his eyes again, then a devilish smile took its place. “I will hold you to these promises, Mother, and you will never regret making them come true for me.”

  “You do not mind if I find a way to have Kelton die?”

  “The sooner the better, for I wish to reclaim my birthright.”

  “Prepare yourself to leave for home at dawn,” she said, pleased with her son. “Ensnare Alysa and all will be possible. Confide in no one, Moran,” she warned.

  “Only in you, Mother,” he said, then hugged her tightly. “There are a few hours of daylight left. Ask Kelton if I can leave immediately.”

  Isobail complied, for it suited her other plans for the evening. Within twenty minutes Moran was racing toward Malvern Castle.

  Later, as Isobail sipped a goblet of wine, she handed one to her servant girl. The young woman eagerly downed the heady wine quickly, overwhelmed by the kind treatment. The women shared another glass of the refreshing drink while the young woman combed the princess’s waist-length hair. Isobail pressed a gold hairpin and silver coin on the simple girl. Isobail promised either to free the bond servant and reward her more heavily after this evil task was done, or she would bring the doting girl to Malvern Castle as her personal servant. The dense woman was overjoyed, and beguiled. Isobail knew her instructions would be followed.

  Many things happened on Monday in distant reaches of Damnonia. Alysa checked for Gavin’s return, and was disappointed to find him still gone. Prince Alric remained in a dazed state, as did Leitis. Kyra and Earnon stole hours together to love and to plot. Keegan returned to Gavin’s camp to await his friends. Moran journeyed toward Malvern Castle. And far away, Gavin and Weylin connected with the brigands and met with their leader, Skane.

  Tuesday morning Isobail left Sir Kelton’s for Lord Orin’s castle. Having accomplished her task, she was eager to reach the place where Trahern was to meet her. Soon the bewitched girl would follow her orders.

  Fourteen

  After checking their secret spot again to see if Gavin had returned, Alysa went back to the castle to find Moran waiting for her. She watched her stepbrother approach her with the cocky stroll she knew so well. She cringed inwardly at the sensual smile playing on his full lips and at the way his blazing eyes consumed her. There was no way to elude him, much to her disconcertment.

  Moran frowned playfully and reproached her, “It is dangerous to go riding alone, Alysa.” Sounding as if she were accountable to him, he asked, “Where have you been?” He assisted her as she dismounted, then handed the animal’s reins to a stable boy.

  Alysa reclaimed the reins, smiled at the boy, and dismissed him. She said to Moran, “I prefer to take care of Calliope myself.” Ignoring her stepbrother, she led her horse into the stable to brush and feed him.

  Moran followed, chastising her again, but this time softly, “You must not ride without an escort, Alysa, and this is not a task for a princess. Both are improper. Remember your position.”

  To silence him, Alysa casually remarked, “I was perfectly safe; I did not ride far. I enjoy riding alone and taking care of Calliope. What are you doing home?” she inquired, suspecting that Isobail had sent him for a dreaded reason.

  Moran grinned as he leaned against the stall, making it obvious he was going to remain there with her. “You do not look or sound happy to see me, little mouse. I traveled hard and fast to have time to visit you before Sir Kelton needs me. I have missed you, Alysa.”

  As she brushed Calliope’s damp hide, Alysa did not remind Moran that she disliked his pet name for her. He had called her “little mouse” since childhood, first in spiteful taunting and later in undisguised affection. She was glad that her back was to him while she composed herself, and she hoped he did not notice her tension before she mastered it. In an even voice she asked, “Why did you not stay there and visit with your mother? I am sure she has many things to tell you and the others about this trouble plaguing our land. Every available man should be out hunting down these wicked brigands.”

  “A man cannot train or fight all of the time, little mouse, especially when there are other matters at hand.” He stroked her arm intimately, then lifted a handful of dark brown locks to tease beneath his nose, inducing her to half turn and look at him. Smiling suggestively, Moran released her heavy tresses.

  Alysa observed him momentarily as his fingers absently wandered through his light brown hair, causing his curls to settle most appealingly about his face. His eyes and nose were large, but not enough to detract from his handsome visage. She admitted that his exceptionally good looks and immense virility could lure most maidens into surrender, but not her. Although he was well-bred and charming, she had always found something repellent about Moran which spread warning shivers over her entire body. As for his body, his physique was muscular and tough, and colored pleasingly. Today he was dressed in a winter-green knee-length tunic, with wide wheat-colored bands at the neck, hem, and short sleeves. Beneath it he wore snug, matching trousers which were tucked into calf-high boots. His only weapon was a dagger in a jeweled sheath, suspended on a hip-hugging leather belt.

  When Alysa returned to her rubdown of Calliope without reacting to his titillating behavior, Prince Moran asserted, “We have not had enough time during this past year, Alysa, and that has shown me how precious you are to me. Sometimes we are apart for months, and I miss being with you. I fear you continue to hold my childhood mischief against me, even though I have begged your forgiveness for a devilish boy who had no father to guide him.

  “Those days and events are long past, and we are different. Over the years you have ensnared my heart and enflamed my body until I can think of nothing except making you mine forever. Yet when I come home, you still ignore me. Must you be so elusive? So cold and cruel to me? Surely you realize how I feel about you; I love you and want to marry you. May I court you, Alysa?”

  Alysa’s hand slowed its pace as he was speaking, and her heart pounded frantically. He was wasting no time during this unexpected visit. She had guessed accurately; Isobail had sent him home to make a bid for her! Keeping her back to him, she chided, “You said you were over your childhood mischief, Moran, then you tease me again.”

  His hands cupped her waist and he bent forward to whisper into h
er ear, “I am not jesting, Alysa. I want you to become my wife. Do not continue to thwart me. Let me enter your heart. Let me fill you with desire, as you have done for me.”

  Alysa’s movements halted, but she did not turn. Her body felt rigid and cold. Her wits seemed to fail her. She moistened her lips. “You must not speak this way, Moran; you are my brother. We shall forget you—”

  Moran gently seized her shoulders and pulled her around to face him. “I am not your brother, Alysa. We are no blood kin. I am a man, and you are a woman. I desire you as such.”

  Alysa trembled with panic. She felt a hot flush crawl over her body. “But we were raised as brother and sister, and that is how I think of you,” she argued.

  “You mislead yourself, little mouse,” Moran replied. “I lived in the outer bailey with my mother and sister until I was seven, then I became a page at Sir Kelton’s. Since we moved into the castle six years ago, we have shared only a few short visits. You are no sister to me; you are a woman, a very desirable one. Let me prove to you I have become a man, a worthy suitor. Do not fear me or my love, for they are strong and true. Allow yourself to find joy with me, and I swear you will never regret accepting me.”

  Alysa studied his expression and knew he was serious. For the past two years she had hoped to prevent this scene, but it was too late. “You must choose another to love and woo, Moran, for I do not feel the same way about you.”

  “I cannot,” he stated flatly. “I will pursue you until you yield. There is no man more worthy of you than I. Mother said it was time for you to wed, so I hurried home to court you. Do not reject me without giving me a chance to win you. For years I have dreamed of having you, but I was waiting until I became a knight to ask for your hand. Please open your heart to me, Alysa,” he coaxed.

  “You are not a knight yet,” she reminded him, trying to think of a persuasive argument against his appeal. She dared not offend him and make an enemy of him. The problem was, if Isobail was not defeated, she could be forced to marry him…

  “Mother says Prince Alric will knight all eligible squires as soon as he is better. Mother says she needs all of the warriors she can find to rid our land of the brigands. Soon I will be a knight and a prince. Is that not enough for you to consider me? Do you want me to beg?”

  “Please do not, Moran,” she urged. “This is not the place to speak of such a private matter. Someone could hear us. Let me think on your words, for I did not expect them and I do not wish to hurt you. I have never thought of you in a romantic way. Since Isobail’s marriage to Father, I have considered you my brother.”

  “My plea should not come as such a surprise, little mouse. Surely you have guessed my feelings for you by now. I have not hidden them. Every time I come home, I pursue you, but you turn aside. I am not ugly or crude or boring. What is it about me that offends you? Tell me, and I will change it.”

  “Please do not press me further, Moran. I need time to accept your mother’s command and your stunning revelation. Marriage had not entered my mind until Isobail spoke to me about it a few days past. Choosing a husband is no minor decision and cannot be done rashly. You are being too forward and impatient today. Your sudden urgency confuses me.”

  Visibly jealous, he demanded, “Is there another knight courting you? I will challenge him or anyone for your hand. Mother’s words are what spurred me into desperate action. I feared to wait any longer to approach you.”

  “Do not be silly,” she said. “No man comes to call upon me. Surely Isobail told you so. I am young, Moran; I cannot imagine myself wed at this age.”

  “Others younger than you are married. You stand at the door to womanhood, little mouse. Let me open it and share that special moment with you. Your time is short, Alysa, too short to find a suitor more perfect for you than I am.” His hand lifted to caress her hot cheek as he murmured intimately, huskily, “Let me teach you about passion, little mouse. I will give you more love and pleasure than any man could. I offer myself to you in heart and body; take me, love me, marry me.”

  “Moran had attempted to entice her many times before, but never like this. Today he was alarmingly persistent, and also seductive. She heard an intensity in his voice that had not been present until now. If she had not known any better she would have believed he truly loved her and wanted her for herself, not for the crown through marriage to her. She felt trapped. She had to get away from him and bring a stop to his amorous siege.

  Alysa tried to elude his grasp, but he embraced her and covered her mouth with his. She felt him tremble with hot desire, yet his kiss was tender and probing. She pushed him away and said, “Nay, Moran. You behave improperly. What if someone sees us and talks?”

  Moran chuckled as he kissed her fiery cheeks. After capturing her face between his hands, he declared, “I want everyone to know I claim you for myself. Then no man would dare come to court you. I shall make certain I am your only choice, my beautiful Alysa. Waste no more time leading me a merry chase; marry me soon before I go mad with desire for you.”

  She scowled at him. “You are wicked and impulsive, Moran. Do not embarrass me before others. Release me and halt this devilish sport before we are flogged for misbehavior.”

  “It is a most important game to me, and I shall win it, Alysa, that I promise you. I shall leave you for now, else all of my control will vanish,” he remarked with a roguish grin, then left the stable.

  Alysa peeked outside and watched her stepbrother swagger to the south tower where his chamber was located, below hers. She swayed weakly against the stall and sighed heavily. She realized it was going to be difficult, if not impossible, to discourage him. She felt Isobail’s trap closing more tightly around her, and she feared it. With Moran around, she would have no peace or privacy. If she did not remain in her chamber, he would besiege her day and night, trying to wear down her resistance. How could she sneak off to meet Gavin? Or Giselde? She had to learn how long Moran intended to visit.

  The evening meal was served in the Great Hall with six people present, and everyone sat at the same table: Alysa, Moran, Kyra, Baltair, Earnon, and Guinn. Moran had tried to get Prince Alric to join them, but the ruler was too ill. The servants moved about quietly and respectfully. The hounds had been locked out, at Moran’s request. The candlelight and heady wine were conducive to romance, and the food was delicious: a meal and setting planned by Moran.

  Moran and Kyra exchanged banter, while Earnon. and Baltair sat quietly watching everyone, as each man knew that something was afoot. The court bard seemed particularly subdued tonight, and Kyra’s attempts to draw him into the merry conversation failed. Within minutes it was obvious to all that Moran was eyeing Alysa with romantic interest.

  His eyes glowed with desire and appreciation. “I have never seen you look more beautiful than you do tonight, little mouse,” the squire complimented Alysa, who was wearing a soft and flowing gown of deep rose with matching slippers. Her brown hair tumbled enchantingly about her shoulders, and her eyes looked like two priceless sapphires set into a flawless surrounding. “How can I think of food when my starving senses have you to feast upon? Is she not the most ravishing creature alive, Guinn? How I envy you your days here with her.”

  If the distracted bard heard him, he did not reply. But Kyra teased, “Now I know what brought you rushing home, brother dear.”

  Moran looked at Alysa and smiled. “I have a challenge to meet, sister. I plan to persuade Alysa to marry me. With luck, we shall have a child before a new spring arrives.”

  Alysa choked on her wine and gaped at him. Moran chuckled and captured her hand. “My feelings are not a secret, little mouse. I will chase you eagerly, and I shall not let you rest until you yield. I implore your dear friends, help me persuade this lady to marry me.”

  Baltair was stunned by Moran’s evident passion for a girl whom he did not know was his half sister. Surely Isobail was behind this sudden siege upon Alric’s heir. The seneschal realized something had to be done to prevent such a forbid
den union. Yet how could he halt it without exposing Alric’s dark secret? And what if Isobail discovered that secret?

  When Alysa ceased coughing, she retorted, “I have told you, Moran, I consider you my brother, not my suitor. Behave yourself.”

  Moran was not discouraged in the least. He grinned. “But as I told you, little mouse, you are not my sister and I plan to win you. Prepare yourself for my pursuit, for it will gain us a happy victory.”

  Kyra glanced from Moran to Alysa and back again. “Little brother, you surprise me. I did not know you were such a romantic, nor that you were in love with Alysa.”

  “I love her with all my heart,” he declared boldly, grinning once more when Alysa flushed a bright red. “Help me, Kyra. Convince her no other man is worthy of her than a prince and a knight. Guinn, sing a fiery love song to melt her frozen heart.”

  Guinn frowned. He was not in the mood for such goings-on, but it was his duty to entertain them. He retrieved his lyre and obeyed Moran, much to Alysa’s discomfiture.

  Moran leaned close to her and repeated each line of the bard’s song. His tone was sensuous, seductive, and embarrassing. Kyra could not suppress her amused giggles, causing Alysa to frown at her.

  “Forgive me, Alysa,” she entreated, “but this would make you my sister twice over, and that would please me. Listen to Moran; you can find no better choice for a husband. Soften your heart to him.”

  Moran smiled at Kyra, delighted with her support, but wondered why she was aiding his cause, as they had never gotten along. Obviously she would expect a favor in return. Yet Moran was alert to notice that Baltair’s eyes had darkened and narrowed strangely. “Baltair, I beg you to take my plea to Prince Alric. Convince him of my love for his daughter. I must have her as my own or perish from denial.”