For Love of the Earl

by Jessie Clever

  Alec had to agree with her on that, but-

  "They may have heard yelling from a woman, but it was not expected of a lady."

  He felt it the instant she withdrew at his words. She didn't physically move away, but she did not need to. He felt it in the way her breath paused ever so slightly, and she adjusted her head just the barest of spaces. And he knew that he had said the wrong thing. He should have known his attempts to make her laugh would fail once again. It was not as if this situation were any different. It did not matter if their lives were in peril as they bobbed in the English Channel aboard a vessel bound to take them to their doom. She was still Sarah. And Sarah disliked him. Intensely.

  But Alec would not give up. He had made his father love him even when he had committed the ultimate sin. He had made his father love him by making him laugh. He knew he could do the same with Sarah. He knew he could, because he must. He could not imagine living the entirety of his life at odds with her.

  He needed her goodness. He needed her light. He needed her tenacity. He needed her.

  "Sarah?" he asked, even though there was no one else in the room to whom he could be speaking.

  She responded with a quiet, "Hmm?"

  "What did you mean when you said it was not that I was the problem?"

  Perhaps it was dangerous, or even foolish, to resurface such a delicate topic when he had so recently upset her, but there was something in the statement that did not sound quite right to him. It settled uneasily on him as if Sarah spoke only half truths until she could figure out the whole lie.

  Now she did move away from him, and he let her. She took a deep breath, and he felt the exhale on his cheek. He turned his head to look at her lying next to him, her lovely face so close to his on the pillow.

  He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to do more than kiss her. He wanted...to not be here. For certain, he wished to be with her, Sarah, but he wished it were somewhere else. Anywhere else. Somewhere warm and safe and...happy.

  "Sarah?" he prompted.

  "I don't know what it was, Alec," she nearly whispered, and Alec felt the prick of another half truth.

  He doubted Sarah was lying to him, but he also knew that she was not speaking the entire truth to him. It was as if she knew what it was that she meant, but she did not wish to tell him. He wondered what it was and more importantly, why she felt she could not tell him. He wanted her to tell him everything. He had hoped that by confiding in her about his dependence on his father's voice as a little boy would help her to trust him. To bring her closer to him. But he could see his story, his sharing, had not had the desired effect. She still closed herself off to him. She stayed back and away, physically, emotionally and mentally.

  "What was your favorite thing to do as a child?" he suddenly asked, not liking how it felt to feel Sarah drifting further away from him. He wanted to change the subject. He wanted to see if talking of nothing got her to speak about something.

  Sarah looked at him, her eyes deep pools in the lantern light.

  "I beg your pardon?" she asked.

  Alec shifted onto his side, coming up on one elbow.

  "As a child. What was your favorite thing to do?"

  Sarah blinked, and then she said, "Eat."

  A laugh slipped from Alec's mouth before he realized she was serious.

  "I'm sorry," he said quickly before she could retreat. "I didn't realize-"

  "It's quite all right, my lord," she said, and he thought she would berate him, but her expression was one of mocking cynicism. "Not all of us are born to the life of leisure young Master Black had as a child. Some of us 'ad to earn our keep," she finished in an unrefined accent.

  And then she smiled.

  And Alec nearly died.

  He would have found it humorous seeing as how he had survived up until now only to have his wife's playful smile slay him in the end. He recovered quickly though, not wanting to lose this mood. Not wanting to lose Sarah.

  "Well, I beg your pardon, miss," he said with equally as drawn out polished tones, "I did not realize the caliber of the present company. I do hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me."

  Sarah frowned.

  "Why should I forgive you? It would do no good. You would still be the same arrogant, immature earl I have had the unfortunate circumstance to be wed to for the past four years."

  Now he frowned.

  "Unfortunate circumstance?"

  Sarah rolled her eyes at him.

  "We were forced to wed, Alec. What part of that circumstance seems all right to you? Surely, you have not enjoyed being wedded to a shrew like me."

  Alec took offense at that.

  "How do you know how I feel? And I believe we have already concluded that I do not think you a shrew."

  Sarah blinked at him, her eyes vacant as if she were absorbing everything and letting nothing back out in return.

  "What was your favorite thing to do as a child?" she asked, avoiding his question.

  Alec lay back down, taking the opportunity to move just a little bit closer to Sarah.

  "My favorite thing to do as a child was to follow Nathan around," he said, referring to his older brother.

  Sarah did not say anything right away, and when she did, she was hesitant.

  "What was it like?" she asked, "Growing up with Nathan being a..."

  "Bastard?" Alec supplied, turning his head on the pillow.

  Sarah looked at him and nodded.

  "Yes, a...bastard."

  Alec shrugged.

  "I don't know. Nathan was just Nathan. It was not as if I knew then difference when I was eight and just wanted him to teach me how to catch trout from the streams."

  Alec looked back at the ceiling, casting his memory back on his boyhood.

  "Nathan had always been there. There was never a time when I didn't have a big brother, so I never really thought about him as being anything other than that. My big brother." He scratched the back of his neck where the rough fabric of the pillow irritated his skin. "But I suppose it was rather odd that Nathan could not go to things that I could."

  "Things?"

  Alec shrugged.

  "You know, like picnics and races and country parties, and-" he stopped so abruptly he nearly swallowed his tongue. He looked at Sarah from the corner of his eye, but she seemed to be merely looking at the same boards he had been. "You know, things such as that."

  Sarah nodded but did not offer further input. Alec nudged her with his elbow.

  "What about you? How did you survive the dodgy halls of St. Mary's? I've heard a thing or two about the young Sarah Beckham. Care to share a tale or three with me?"

  Sarah looked at him briefly before returning her gaze to the ceiling.

  "No, I would not," she said flatly.

  Alec was not deterred.

  "All right, how about I share one then? As you so graciously shared the tales you had heard of me, it would be remiss of me as a gentleman not to reciprocate."

  Sarah swung her gaze back him.

  "Whatever do you mean?"

  "Did you really release a flock of hens into the nuns' cloister during prayer?"

  Sarah sat up nearly hitting her head on the ceiling. She turned to him, her nostrils flaring.

  "Who told you that?" she asked, her voice even and strong.

  Alec smiled.

  "It's classified. And how about the poor priest? What was his name? Something saintly like Timothy James or James Timothy or some such thing. Did you cut off the back side of his robes while he delivered the homily at mass one day?"

  Sarah's mouth dropped open.

  "I wouldn't have suspected you of wanting to see a clergyman's freckled white arse, but there are things about each of us that the other never really expects, true?"

  Sarah's mouth snapped shut.

  "It wasn't freckled," she said and lay back against the bunk.

  Alec smiled at the ceiling and put his arm behind his head. It was at that precise moment that the boat took a su
dden dip, and Sarah rolled against him. He moved quickly, capturing her back in his arms. She did not fight him, and it surprised him. She simply lay against him, her head resuming its place on his chest.

  Alec's hand traced lazy circles on her back, enjoying the feeling of warmth that spread from her body into his fingertips. They were silent then, and Alec felt Sarah breath in and out. It was possibly the most comforting sensation Alec knew. His hand moved against her back before settling along the curve of her hip. He held it there, feeling the draw of her breath.

  "Alec?" she asked, and he thought of how fragile her voice sounded.

  "Hmm?" he said in response.

  "I didn't-" she said but then stopped.

  Alec looked down at her in time to see her nervously lick her lips.

  "I didn't," she continued, "I did not do what I did that day because I thought you were dying."

  She swallowed, and he felt the movement against his chest. He knew she was speaking about the hut, but he didn't want to press her.

  "I beg your pardon?"

  "I mean," there was more nervous lip licking, "I did think you were dying and I thought if I...you know...you would warm up and not...die."

  Alec didn't say anything. Could not say anything. His hand slid up her back, cupped the back of her head, and drew her back so that she could see his face.

  "What do you mean you didn't do what you did because I was dying?"

  Sarah's expression was unreadable. If there was one thing about his wife that made her a good spy, it was her incredible ability to become a blank slate at a moment's notice. And now she used that ability to keep her husband at bay. To keep Alec out. He did not like it. He prodded incessantly.

  "What do you mean, Sarah? What do you mean you did it? It was me who-"

  She cut him off, "No, it was me, Alec. I started it."

  He blinked, feeling a sudden rush of anger well up inside of him.

  "You started it? You made me believe for two days that I had taken advantage of my wife when you were the one who had started it?"

  Sarah pulled back, trying to free herself from his grasp, but he would not let her go.

  "I'm beginning to realize we have a problem when it comes to understanding each other, my lady. Now would you care to elaborate on that statement?"

  He saw the flash in her eyes that told him she was trying to figure a way out of it. She was trying to find a way to not tell him the truth. And suddenly, he wanted to know the truth very much.

  "Sarah," he said.

  "Well..." she began.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Somewhere in a hut in Southern England, probably on a road to Dover

  Two days ago

  The thud of Alec's body hitting the dirt floor made Sarah cringe. She stumbled more then ran to where he had landed and fell on her knees beside him.

  "Alec? Alec? Oh, please God, say something. Alec?" She picked up his head and cradled it in her lap. His hair was soaked, and his lips were a cruel shade of blue. Her stomach rolled at the sight, and the room began to spin, but she gripped her courage and turned back toward the door.

  "A fire, please, I beg you. He's too cold. He might die. Please." She was begging for the first time in her life, but she didn't care. Alec couldn't die on her. He couldn't leave her.

  Sven with the gold teeth smiled harshly. "I'm afraid there will be no fire. The smoke may draw a crowd. And we wouldn't want that, would we?"

  Sarah couldn't answer him. Her tongue was suddenly too large for her mouth and air wouldn't go down her throat to her lungs.

  "Besides, the ride on top of the carriage was a punishment for causing a stir in our pleasant journey. I will not be giving comforts to him now after he has betrayed my trust." Sven put his hand to his chest and bent in a mocking bow. "I will leave one of the horses in here with ye. 'Haps the animal's body heat will help."

  Sven walked out of the hut into the still pounding rain. Sarah shivered at the sound of it seeping through the deteriorating thatched roof. She turned back to Alec, but he was no more awake now then two minutes before. She stroked her hands across his cheeks hoping to draw blood to the surface to heat his skin. But his lips. His lips were terribly blue. She rubbed her fingers across them, but they were still that cruel blue when her fingers moved away.

  A horse neighed in her ear, and Sarah jumped almost dropping Alec's head back on the floor. She looked up as a horse nose nudged her head. She scooted away from the animal, dragging Alec with her. The horse was amplified in the small space, and Sarah felt her courage wavering. She pushed Alec a little further away from the horse and gently placed his head on the floor. She looked up at the ceiling as more rain fell. Nothing dripped above Alec's head, so Sarah stood up, maneuvered her way around the horse, and stood in front of the open door.

  Sven stood in the rain with the other three men that were their captors. Sarah had seen none of their faces except Sven's, and they all wore identical dark greatcoats. The rain ran off their coats in rivers, and their wide brimmed hats threw off waterfalls.

  "Excuse me," Sarah yelled through the noise of the downpour that had been raging all night, the long night that had seen Alec strapped to the roof of the carriage, the long night that had seen Sarah nearly shredding her gloves in anxiety. Alec had been tied to the goddamn roof and all because he'd knocked Sven into the wall with a well placed fist to the face when Sven had said something less than complimentary about her.

  And now was not the time to think about what that had meant. Alec, her sudden knight in shining armor like something from a fairy tale. Orphans did not believe in fairy tales.

  "Excuse me!" Sarah shouted, sounding hysterical even to her own ears.

  Sven turned around.

  "The earl isn't waking up."

  Sven nodded once and turned back around.

  Sarah marched out into the rain, grabbed Sven and swung him around.

  "He is not waking up, you bastard!" Sarah grabbed handfuls of Sven's greatcoat and shook him, venting all the anger that was welling up inside of her.

  Someone grabbed her from behind and flung her down into the deepening mud. Her face landed in an inch of water, and she gagged as mud went in her mouth and up her nose. She coughed hard as someone else hauled her to her feet. They started dragging her before she could get her feet under her to walk. They threw her into the door of the hut, and she bounced, colliding with the unnerved horse.

  "'Haps if you give him some attention, he will wake up in good time," Sven said, snapping the door shut in her face.

  Sarah stood for a moment, feeling the rain running off her body. She watched the light flicker through the holes in the door as the men moved around outside. The horse nudged her back. She swung around, sending droplets of water flying off her skirts. She pushed the horse out of her way.

  "Oh, calm down, you silly animal." Sarah patted his nose and scooted around him.

  Alec lay on the ground where she had left him. His lips were still that cruel blue, but his chest rose and fell in steady breaths. She stood above him and wrung her hands. She stopped when she realized her gloves were missing. Her hands were freezing, red and raw. She looked down at Alec. His skin wasn't red. Just cold and lifeless.

  Sarah dropped to her knees again. Her hands fluttered once helplessly in the air above Alec's chest before they dropped. Her fingers crawled over the fabric of his shirt, unconsciously finding the buttons. She slipped one from its hole, then another and another. She watched her fingers go beneath the shirt. The shocking coldness of his skin made her jerk when her fingers made contract with his chest.

  'Haps if you give him some attention.

  Sarah drew her hand back.

  "Alec?" she whispered and then wondered why she'd whispered.

  She brushed his dripping hair off his forehead, but the lock fell back into place.

  And then Sarah leaned over and put her lips to his. Softly, at first. Why softly, she did not know. But there was something about Alec unconscious that made him se
em so vulnerable that it scared her. So she was gentle, but the feel of Alec's lips reminded her of another kiss, a harder kiss, a kiss of frustrated love and relieved fear. And then she was kissing him more deeply, willing him to respond as she increased the pressure on his mouth.

  But he didn't respond.

  So she hit him. Hard. On the chest. The thud of her fist slamming into him echoed through the thatched hut.

  "Goddamn you! Wake up!"

  She was crying. When had she started crying? Why couldn't she stop?

  "Alec?" She kissed him. "Alec?" She kissed him again. "Please, God, Alec, wake up!"

  She stood and started ripping at her sodden dress. Body heat. Her body heat would warm him. The wet material wouldn't cooperate, and her body heaved with wracking sobs. She heard something rip, and the dress finally fell to the ground. She fought with her chemise as she knelt, straddling Alec's hips. With the chemise free, she started on Alec's shirt, her cold fingers moved quickly over the tiny buttons, startling her in their dexterity. Finally, the material fell to either side, and she could spread her hands across the broad expense of his chest, her fingers curling in the fine dusting of dark hair.

  "Alec? Alec? Can you hear me?" She leaned down and kissed him again, harder, longer kisses. "Alec, please wake up."

  She scooted back and went to work on his trousers. The wet material wouldn't budge, and she couldn't lift him to work the stubborn garment down his legs. So she scooted back up and fell down on his chest, her bare breasts crushing against him as she landed on her elbows. She took his head between her hands and bruised her lips as she kissed him yet again. She thought she felt a flicker of movement in him, but she cried so hard and kissed him so hard, she wasn't sure who was moving and who wasn't.

  "Alec, Alec, Alec," she murmured against his mouth. "Alec, I need you."

  Alec's hand at the back of her head made her jump, but his grip tightened and held her mouth against his. His other arm moved around, pinning her solidly against him. Her hips ground against him as she struggled to free herself from his embrace. She hadn't thought about him waking up and seeing her like she was, and she was suddenly terrified, vulnerable, insecure.