by Dee Brice
“Gerard said nothing about taxes,” Rowena murmured.
“What then does he do?” She leaned toward Rowena, eager to learn how Gerard spent his days.
Rowena listed Gerard’s duties, finishing with, “In short, he is a king in training. While Edgar seems to place more importance on singing. I have given my heart to an endlessly cheerful ne’er-do-well!”
Going to Rowena’s side, Edina patted her sister’s shoulder. Sitting beside her, Edina said succinctly, “I have never felt so stupid in my entire life! The minute I saw Edgar, I gave in to the need to test him yet again. On your behalf, of course.”
“Of course,” Rowena drawled. Sighing, she leaned her elbows on her knees. “I felt the same when I encountered Gerard. When he invited me to join him in the punt… Not wanting to be with him, I felt compelled to pretend to be you. Which makes no sense at all. ‘Twas the perfect opportunity to introduce myself as myself, but I didn’t.”
“The game is almost like…drinking mead. Knowing you’ll awaken with a head that feels thrice its size but unable to stop drinking it.”
“Exactly like that.”
“On the rare occasions we are not together, I don’t pretend I am you,” Edina said.
“Neither do I when you’re away. Mother keeps me busy counting sheets.” Her laugh made Edina frown. “’Twas something I said to Gerard while pretending to be you.”
Edina sat. Looking at her sister’s glum face, she sighed. “I truly want to stop, Rowena. But if, after we marry, we continue to live together… I fear the temptation may prove too great.”
“As do I.”
“Perhaps…perhaps I can persuade Mother to let Gerard and me live on her dower estate.”
“You assume Gerard has no land or castle of his own.”
“Aye. I don’t know if he has land or not. We’ve never talked about our future. I just assumed…that he wants us to be together.” Swiping at sudden tears, she sobbed.
“I believe he does want that, Edina. I also believe Edgar wants a future with me. To think otherwise…’tis entirely too painful.”
* * * * *
Kerrie clapped her hands. At last the twins recognized what had importance!
Chapter Seven
Gareth’s Encampment
Gaspar belched and scratched his belly. Gerard and Edgar braced for yet another lecture. As if everyone capable of speech hadn’t already given them one or more already!
“You know, a man could get fat doing nothing but eating and drinking.” Gaspar speared another sausage from the fire, blew on it then tested its warmth with his tongue. “Too hot yet.
“Now,” he went on, “if a man had a pretty girl to chase all over his own property, he’d stand a chance of staying in condition.”
Edgar quirked a brow at Gerard, saying, “Aye. If a man had his own property and his own woman. ‘Twould be heaven.”
“Princes we are, but we lack land to call our own,” Gerard added. His resentful tone surprised him as much as it surprised his companions. “Our father saw no need to split his lands between his sons. He felt it would lead to our trying to kill one another.”
“Your father raised his legitimate sons to respect their king.”
“And instilled greed in his bastard,” Edgar muttered.
“Hanging was too easy a death for William. Gareth should have had him drawn and quartered before he hanged him.”
“Perhaps,” Gaspar said mildly. “Yvonne suggested she use the bastard for target practice.”
“She would,” Gerard said, and they all laughed.
“Speaking of Yvonne… She’s had a letter from Willa. She and Vinn spent a week with the twins’ parents. The newlyweds were impressed with the way Beaufort is maintained. They wrote that the twins have had a hand in Beaufort’s management since they were old enough to recognize their duty.”
“And?” Gerard prompted when Gaspar filled his mouth with sausage.
“Aye. What’s that got to do with us?” Edgar questioned.
“Nothing much. Except there’s no male heir. Seems the knights and men-at-arms dislike the idea of women ordering them about—once their present king dies, of course.”
“Willa should suggest Yvonne set them straight.”
“You’re missing the point, lads.”
“Then get to it!” Gerard snapped.
“Easy, brother. I think Gaspar believes we should marry the twins and rule Beaufort together.”
“Not exactly,” Gaspar said slyly.
“Will we grow long beards before you get to the point?”
“Beaufort is very near Serenity—no more than two days’ steady travel. With The Eyrie needing her full attention, Willa won’t have time to deal with Serenity for quite some time. She proposes that you two put Serenity to rights. When the twins’ sire passes, one of you will govern Beaufort.”
“Willa assumes the twins will agree. Knowing them, they will dislike leaving their home. Then—with their father’s death to mourn—they shan’t want to leave each other.”
Nodding, Gaspar suggested, “Or by that time they may be sick of each other’s company.” He finished his sausage then said, “According to Willa’s letter, their father may be willing to abdicate and live with his wife on her dower estate. Which, by the way, is three days’ hard ride from Beaufort and a sennight from Serenity.”
Gaspar stood then dusted his breeches. “Something to think about,” he said, ignoring two of Marchon’s pages as they ran to the princes. “Good day.” He stalked off.
“Prince Gerard?” When Edgar nodded at his brother, the page handed Gerard a sealed parchment.
“This one’s for Prince Edgar,” the other said, handing Edgar another sealed packet.
They raced away.
Sighing, each brother broke his seal.
“Meet me at our willow,” Gerard read aloud. “Edina has a fine hand.”
“Rowena’s message is the same. A hasty scrawl is hers. Both can write,” Edgar added, his voice betraying his surprise.
“I’m going.”
“So am I, but…perhaps we should arm ourselves.”
“Whatever hell they intend to put us through, I doubt they mean to kill us,” Gerard observed, his eyes reflecting a brief worry.
Edgar nodded. “Aye. ‘Twould be too quick a death.” But he glanced back longingly toward his tent. Wishing for his sword, he checked to see that his dagger rode in its usual place on his belt.
* * * * *
The Willows
Edina, pacing under the canopy of the weeping willow where she and Gerard had first made love, wished for a mirror. Not to check her face or hair, but to ensure her velvet patches were staying in place. She had painted a small spot on Rowena’s right shoulder and had painted a butterfly on her left. Since Rowena could paint neither dot nor butterfly, Edina had covered her own birthmark with a velvet patch. And had placed another—shaped like a butterfly—on her right.
So long as Edgar kept Rowena on dry land, Rowena was safe in her disguise as Edina. On the other hand, Edina herself found the idea of her patches falling away almost frightening. Only the thought of tricking both Gerard and Edgar one last time kept her from running all the way to Beaufort.
Hearing a muffled curse, she went utterly still. Yet she felt as if her heart would jump out of her chest, fall at Gerard’s feet and announce today was a yet another game. One final taste of it before she and Rowena gave up deception forever.
Gerard brushed back the overhanging branches then knelt at her feet. His bowed head made her choked back a hysterical laugh. Humility was the last thing she had expected. Which only added to her feelings of guilt.
“I cannot tell you,” he began, taking her hands.
“If you have come to apologize, I accept.”
“I haven’t. I have nothing to apologize for. You and your sister started the games. Edgar and I merely played along.”
Ignoring his rationale, she jerked away. “Played along, aye. When you could s
o easily have told us you knew we are twins. For that at least, you both owe Rowena and me an apology.” Seeing his mulish expression, she whirled away. “You cannot even say the word, can you?”
“Marriage? I can more than say it, Edina. I want it. I want you to marry me.”
Evening knowing her anger was unreasonable, she shouted, “No! If you cannot say I’m sorry, I’ll not have you. Not now. Not ever!”
“I told you, I have nothing to apologize for. Nothing happened yesterday. I’m certain Rowena told you—”
Screeching in frustration, she pounded his chest.
Gerard caught her fists, spread her arms then stepped between them. She screamed, pounding his back. Not knowing what else to do, he kissed her. She bit his lip. Yelping, he tripped her and took her to the ground.
* * * * *
When Edgar stepped through the low-hanging branches of their willow, Rowena felt perfectly calm. Since she’d sent the message to Edgar, she’d had ample time to think. To mourn Edgar’s loss. To anticipate what could be the last time they would ever make love. This plan was hers. She would live with its consequences, no matter how painful.
Staring at her, concern in his eyes, he said, “You look well, Rowena.”
A grimace twitched her lips. Should she pretend yesterday had never happened? “I suppose you think yesterday was yet another attempt to deceive you and Gerard.”
“The thought crossed my mind.”
“Would you believe it was an accident? That when I encountered Gerard, even wanting to see you, I simply fell into playing Edina?” He glanced at her, but quickly looked away. His silent answer made her heart ache.
“You planned it, didn’t you? Decided if we switched places again, Gerard would call me Edina, knowing full well I was Rowena. As you called my sister by my name.”
“It seemed a harmless trick. Unlike those you played on us.”
“Never mind that it hurt me? Will you at least apologize for that?”
His bowed head jerked up as if she had slapped him. “Apologize? For what? For giving you back a bit of your own? When you and Edina had done everything you could to make fools of us? ‘Tis you and your sister who should apologize to us.”
“Men!” she muttered, clearly disgusted with his avowal. “When you and Gerard knew all along we are twins?” Temper got the better of her. Springing to her feet, she kicked at his shins.
He caught her legs and pulled her down on top of him.
“When we were doing our damnedest to tell the difference between you.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear then rolled her to her back. His gold-flecked gaze tender, he smiled down at her. “I’ve no desire to swive Edina.”
“Why not? We are the same in every way.”
“First, she doesn’t like my kisses. And second—as I’ve told you before—she doesn’t look at me the way you do.”
“And in the dark?”
“Your waist is more slender than hers, your breasts rounder.”
Rowena pinched his earlobes. “You have been that intimate with my sister?”
“I’ve held you both in my arms, aye.” He kissed her. “Third, my chest—”
Rowena boxed his ears. “If you have shown Edina your chest—”
He kissed her again, his lips soft and warm on hers.
She stilled and gave back everything his kiss promised. Somehow their caresses eased away their clothes. Naked now, they lay against each other. Touched. Kissed. Devoured each other with eyes both hot and tender.
“Open for me, Rowena.”
She spread her legs. Guided his cock to her wet opening. Shuddered when he eased its head inside. Slowly—inch by inch—he slid deeper.
“Ahh. I could stay like this forever,” he whispered against her lips.
She slid her hands down his back then cupped his buttocks. His cock twitched and seemed to grow thicker. Longer. Her queynte muscles milked him until need drove them both to move.
Wrapping her legs around his waist, she took him deeper still. She moaned. Frantic to reach a fulfillment she had never known before, she writhed. Her fingers dug into his driving ass.
“Yessss! Edgar, I…ahh…I love you.”
Laughing—a sound intended to be joyful—he took them to the edge. He looked down into her nearly black blue eyes, ignored the deceptive paint on her left shoulder and said, “Of course you love me. Edina.”
* * * * *
Edina glared up at Gerard. His bright blue eyes twinkled down at her and a small smile curved his lips. Her heart softened and she returned his smile.
“I’ll allow you have a right to anger, Edina. If you’ll grant me the same right.”
Expelling a sigh, she said, “I suppose I must.”
“Good.” He sat then pulled her into his lap.
Unable to meet his eyes, she shifted, resting her back against his chest.
“Tell me why you continued the game, Edina. After we made love the first time, why did you and Rowena keep changing places?”
“I honestly don’t know, Gerard. Except… All our lives no one has been able to tell us apart. At first—once we learned even our parents were uncertain which was which—it was a lark to dress alike, laugh alike, mimic each other’s mannerisms.
“But when we reached maturity—”
“Ha!”
She shot him a quelling glance then looked down at her hands. “We realized the game could not go on forever. That in our heart of hearts we each wanted a man who could distinguish one from the other. One man for each of us who—even in the dark—would know who we are. ‘Tis not so much to ask. Is it, Gerard?”
“Nay, sweeting.”
“Can you? Even in the dark?”
He chuckled. “This sounds like yet another test, Edina, but—yes—I can tell the difference. In the dark it would required some touching.”
“Oh?” Her heart plummeted. “How much touching?”
“A kiss at least. Rowena dislikes my kisses.”
“Suppose she could bear one or two. Pretend I am she pretending to be me.”
Tipping her chin, he brushed a kiss across her lips. Returned. Lingered. Teased them open then slid his tongue inside her mouth. Tasted her.
“You cannot tell, can you?” Her voice contained the threat of tears.
“I doubt Rowena could pretend that well. But—if she could—I would touch her body.”
“Show me.”
He ran his hands down her torso, spanned her waist, glided up to cup her breasts. Her nipples pearled against his palms.
She moaned softly. Shifted restlessly against his swelling shaft.
He groaned, but managed to say, “I would know these if nothing else. Your breasts are the perfect handfuls.”
“You have touched Rowena’s breasts?” Edina struggled against his hands, tried to pry them from her breasts. Gave up. Gave in to the magic his fingers wrought on her sensitive nipples.
“Believing she was you, I did touch her breasts. She disliked my touch more than she disliked my kisses.”
Gerard kissed Edina’s neck, her ear, her lips. He lingered at the freckles dotting her nose. Had he noticed them before? “One,” he counted as he kissed her. “Two.” He gave her another kiss, stroking her nipples. They rose to even harder peaks. She turned in his arms, wreathed her own around his neck then pressed him backward until they lay against each other. He lost count and all desire to continue counting.
Frantic, they tore away their clothing. Suddenly calm, they touched each other in the places and ways they’d learned brought the most pleasure.
Gerard eased a finger inside her wet core and pressed his hand over her mound. She maoned, her fingers tightened around his shaft, stroking it until he thought he would erupt all over her lush body.
“Gerard.” Her voice contained a plea her eyes reflected.
“Tell me,” he murmured against her lips.
“I want you…in me.”
Needing no more encouragement, he drove into her.
Gasping, sweat dripping from his forehead and chest, he looked down into her smiling face. She opened her eyes then—in a breathless voice—said, “I love you, Gerard.”
Ignoring the patches that had slipped from her fake birthmark and revealed her true one, ignoring the guilt that tore at his innards, he said the cruel words that would take her from him forever. No matter his true feelings. No matter what the consequences might be, he was deviled into saying, “I know you love me. Rowena.”
* * * * *
Gareth’s Encampment
Staring morosely into a tankard of ale, Gerard groaned. “St. Christopher on a crutch, I’m tired of these endless games. ‘Tis bad enough that Edina and her sister play them. Now it feels as if I cannot stop playing them myself.”
“How did Edina react when you called her Rowena?” Edgar asked before drinking deeply from his own tankard.
“She didn’t stay long enough for me to see. Just shoved me off, gathered her clothes and ran away. What about Rowena?”
“The same. I think she was crying.” Raking his hair with both hands, Edgar swore. “I think we went too far.”
“Aye?” Gerard drawled sarcastically.
“’Tis only…I see no way to make them stop changing places.”
“Perhaps the game is so much a part of who they are—who they’ll always be—they can’t stop.”
“Which leaves us where?”
“Leaving them or putting up with the games for the rest of our lives.”
Edgar moaned. “I’d as soon cut out my heart as leave Rowena. Moreover, if she’s carrying my babe… I’ll not desert her.”
“Moreover,” Gerard echoed, “despite the games, you love her. As I love Edina. I cannot imagine my life without her.”
Brightening, Edgar said, “There’ll be no reason to switch places when they live apart.”
“If they live apart. If we can win them back and take one or the other to her new home. If…damn! Waging war is easier than wooing women.”
