“I told you that you can tell her you cannot perform as a man,” she said. “No woman wants a husband who cannot give her children.”
He cleared his throat softly at the rather scandalous subject. “I am not discounting that, but if they ask me to prove it, it could be… awkward.”
Alyx fought off a grin because he sounded embarrassed. She thought that was rather humorous given the usually confident, straightforward knight.
“Then mayhap you can prove that she is unfit somehow,” she said. “You’ve not seen her in a long time, Torston. Mayhap the woman has things in her past she would rather hide.”
That had his interest. “Like what?”
“Like a lover. What if she has a bastard child running around somewhere? That would make her most unfit to be your wife.”
Torston didn’t jump on that bandwagon just yet, mostly because he had a few secrets of his own that Alyx didn’t know of. The year he’d come to The Lyceum, he’d become drunk one night and he’d taken a serving wench to his bed. She’d been busty and pretty, and didn’t hide the fact that she had wanted him in the worst way.
It had been at one of the very first feasts he’d ever attended in The Lyceum’s great hall and he’d been too drunk to fight off her big, round breasts. She’d essentially manhandled him into her bed and her soft, white body had fed Torston’s drunken lust. At least, what he could remember of it. In the morning, he’d had an aching head and barely remembered a thing, but he did remember the woman as she’d used her mouth to pleasure him. He remembered that clearly.
But when she came to him, pregnant, he could only feel shame and remorse.
Because the wench had been friendly with many men at The Lyceum, he hadn’t believed the child was his until it was born. The wench had labored three days to bear his son, who looked exactly like him when born. The wench hadn’t survived the childbirth and Morley, the very sympathetic majordomo, had offered to send the child away to spare Torston’s reputation. Torston had taken the offer, gladly, but the family Morley sent it to also happened to be the one who offered the marriage contract between their heiress and Torston.
That had been the reason Triston de Royans had accepted the contract.
The de Weese family knew Torston’s dirty little secret.
But he couldn’t tell Alyx that. Up until this very moment, it hadn’t been any of her business and that was the truth. Torston took care of the lad, sending money to the House of de Weese to tend to his son’s needs and making arrangements for the lad to foster in a fine home, but he’d been too busy to make the effort to see the boy. In truth, there were times he forgot about him completely, something that brought him a greater sense of guilt the older he became.
But now… now, he was talking about marrying Alyx, so the child was her business. She deserved to know something he’d kept a secret all these years.
But something wouldn’t allow him to speak on it. There was a large part of him that wanted Alyx to think he was perfect in every way because in her eyes, he was. But all of that would change when he told her what he’d done those years ago.
It might even change her mind about him completely.
For the first time in his life, he was scared of that.
“It might be wise to see what I can find out about her,” he said after a moment. “But for now, let me see if I can break the betrothal through other means. Mayhap they will take a financial offer. I only wish I could find them a better candidate than me.”
Alyx lifted her head and looked at him. “What about Douglas Kerr?”
He looked at her, shocked, before breaking down in soft laughter. “He is not a better candidate than I am,” he said. “If only we could dig up a viscount or earl who was dying to marry a little brown-eyed girl.”
Alyx was taking his musings seriously. “You have many friends in the north, Torston,” she said. “Mayhap you should send word to see if they know of anyone.”
He shook his head, putting an end to her excitement. “That would make me look like a fool,” he said. “Nay, sweetheart, it appears that all I can do is try to negotiate my way out of this.”
“And if you can’t?”
That was the question they were both thinking, a very real possibility. Torston was trying to think of a tactful way to bring it up, but Alyx wasn’t so careful. She wanted to know.
In truth, so did he.
“If it comes to that, I will have no choice,” he said. “But if it comes to that, it will only be after exhausting every possible alternative. I will not give up, Alyx. I will make you that promise. But I will ask you a question.”
“What?”
“If it comes to that, what would you have me do?”
She looked at him as if she didn’t understand the question. “I am not sure what you mean.”
“It is simple enough. If I cannot break this betrothal, what do you want me to do?”
She took a long, hard look at him. “I am still not sure what you mean. You tell me you will have no choice. What I want would be of no consequence.”
“Do you want me to take you and flee the country?”
Her eyes widened. “Would you?”
He held up a finger. “I am bringing up this subject for a reason,” he said. “I fear, that if I cannot break the betrothal, the subject of fleeing might arise and I want to be clear where I stand on this, so you understand everything.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that if I were to take you and flee, I would leave everything behind,” he said quietly. “My career, my life, everything I’ve worked for. We would have to flee to France and start anew, somewhere where no one would know us. You would have to leave your father and brother. We could never come back, at least not for a very long time.”
She thought on that, seriously. “But we would be together.”
“Would it be worth the price?”
Alyx could see what point he was trying to make. Would it be worth the price, running away and leaving everyone behind to start a new life with him? For her, it would be, for she didn’t have a career to leave behind. But for Torston… he would be sacrificing everything.
Would it be worth it?
For him, most assuredly not.
For the first time in her life, Alyx had to think of someone else. As much as she didn’t want to, she couldn’t be selfish about this. Torston has so much more to lose than she did.
Therefore, she knew what her answer would be.
Blinking away tears, she climbed off his lap and went to the hearth where the pots were bubbling away. Using a flat stick, she stirred both of them, all the while pondering Torston’s question. In truth, there was nothing else she could say.
“Nay,” she muttered. “It would not be worth it, least of all for you. I would not force you to make that choice, Torston. I love you too much to see you sacrifice your life and your happiness just for me. But know this; if that is the case and you cannot break your betrothal, then I shall not marry. I will commit myself to the cloister before I marry anyone else.”
“Even Douglas Kerr?”
She stopped and looked at him. “I do not want to marry the man if that is what you are asking,” she said. “I told my father as much.”
“I cannot see you in the cloister, Pigeon,” he said quietly. “It would be a waste of material. You are too vital and intelligent and beautiful. It would be an utter and complete waste.”
“Then you would rather see me married to Douglas?”
“I would rather see you happy and I am not entirely certain you would be happy in the cloister.”
“I would be even less happy married to Douglas Kerr.”
Torston sighed heavily and leaned back against the wall as he thought on the situation. “Let us look at it without emotion,” he said. “In the cloister, you would be forced to work from sunup to sundown. You would be forced to wear woolen clothing, to pray several times a day. There would be no opportunity to wander the woods, no opportunity to
attend feasts or parties. You would live the life of a postulate and it would be very harsh. Have you considered that?”
She frowned. “It would be better than being married to Douglas Kerr.”
“Would it?” he asked. “With Kerr, you would have a comfortable home, money, good food to eat, and anything you desired. You would have a position of respect. You could visit your father whenever you wanted to and have relative freedom. If I were a woman, that would be more appealing to me.”
Her eyebrows flew up. “Then you encourage me to marry the man?”
He shook his head. “I simply want you to think before you make any decisions,” he said. “Hopefully, there will be no decisions to make, but we must consider the possibility.”
Alyx wasn’t sure what to say. Brow furrowed in thought, she finished stirring the pea pottage before returning to the table where Torston had brought her a blanket of some kind. It was surprisingly clean and she tore off all of the bedding on the bed before laying the clean blanket on top of it. With a heavy sigh, she lay down and curled up, looking up at Torston as he sat on the stool beside her.
“For so long, I begged you to marry me,” she murmured. “For so long, it was the only thing I wanted. It is still the only thing I want, most in this world. But it never really occurred to me that I might never have my fondest wish. I thought that when you told me you were betrothed, you were simply trying to rid yourself of me.”
He grinned down at her. “Nay,” he told her. “I was being truthful.”
“I know that now.”
He sat forward on the stool, bent over her. “Do not despair,” he said. “All is not lost, not yet. When I want something, I usually get it.”
“And you want me?”
“I do.”
“But just in case you cannot… we cannot… will you do something for me?”
“Anything.”
“Will you let me kiss you?”
It was not an unexpected request, so he didn’t think anything of it. He wanted to kiss her, too. But it wasn’t a good idea and he knew it, considering they were very much alone in this cottage and there would be nothing to stop any progression beyond a simple kiss but, at the moment, he was giving in to what he’d told her not to succumb to –
Despair.
It was true that he was feeling it. He knew it was going to be close to impossible to break the betrothal and after his conversation with Alyx about Douglas Kerr, it was possible she would decide to marry the Scotsman rather than commit herself to the cloister. To think of her in Douglas’ arms nearly tore his guts out because she’d belonged to him for nine years. It had taken nine years for him to come to his senses and now that he belonged to her, too, he didn’t want to surrender that.
He didn’t want to surrender her.
Without another word, he leaned over the bed and fused his mouth to hers.
Alyx responded instantly, her arms around his neck, allowing him to kiss her so hard that she was gasping for air. Still, he kissed her harder and Alyx was more than happy to let him because there seemed to be some kind of finality in his kiss, perhaps knowing it might be the last time he tasted her. There were so many obstacles before them and that doom was felt no matter how much they spoke otherwise.
Somehow, Torston ended up on the bed beside her, overwhelming her with is big body. There was so much fire to his touch that it was nearly out of control. Alyx began to weep softly as he kissed her, his hands moving to her body, touching her through the dress she was wearing and feeling her warmth beneath the fabric. When he brushed over her right breast, wanting to touch her but not wanting to startle her, she grasped his hand and put it over her breast.
“Touch me,” she whispered against his mouth. “Please take me as your own, Torston. Do not let my first touch of a man be Douglas Kerr because I am terrified it will come to that. Give me this memory of you to remember for the rest of my life, to live by when my days are dark and cold without you. Please let me feel your love as it was always meant to be.”
Torston couldn’t deny her. He didn’t want to deny her. This was his fear about being alone with her, in a cottage where no one would stop their activities, but any hope for restraint was lost. His response was to loosen the ties on her surcoat, sliding it off her shoulders, enough so that he could get to a warm and tender nipple. When he suckled her furiously, Alyx cried out, holding his head to her breast as if nursing a starving child. As she held him tightly, his hands snaked underneath her skirts, hiking them up to reveal her virgin center.
Torston nursed hungrily at her breasts as his hands stroked her thighs. When he gently fingered the dark fluff of curls, Alyx leapt with uncertainty but he stilled her with gentle words and soft caresses. She was responsive and willing, which destroyed any semblance of his self-control. She was clear in that she wanted him desperately, even if it was the one and only time. Her virginity belonged to him. It always had.
She wanted her first time to be with the man she loved.
Torston slipped a finger into her tight, wet sheath, listening to her gasp at the strange, new sensation. She was already wet, her body prepared for him, and Torston refused to wait. He hadn’t known how badly he’d wanted her until now and the moment was not lost on him. He knew very well what he was doing and knew very well what he wanted.
What he wanted was her.
Unfastening his breeches, he slid them down his hips as he wedged himself in between her legs. As he put the tip of his throbbing phallus at her threshold, he lifted his head and looked her in the eyes.
“I love you, Alyx de Ameland,” he murmured, gently kissing her chin, her mouth. “Mayhap I always have. All I know is that you have been with me for many years and I never realized how much you were a part of me until this very moment. In this life or in the next, you will be in my heart for eternity, come what may.”
With that, he thrust into her, listening to her gasp with pain as he breached her maidenhood. She cried out softly as he thrust into her again and again, seating himself to the hilt, feeling her tight wetness around him. It was pleasure such as he had never known. Holding her buttocks with his hands, he began to move in the ancient primal mating cadence.
Alyx clung to him, feeling the proof of his desire as she could have never imagined. As he thrust into her, she held on to him tightly, feeling the movement of his body, absorbing it with every cell of her body. He was hers, body and soul, and nothing could ever change that.
It was a moment of pure magic.
Her hands were on his buttocks, his lower back, feeling his power as he made love to her. Tears formed in her eyes, rolling down her temples as she clutched at his warm flesh, thinking that she never wanted this to end. There was no real pain, only an innate sense of closeness and pleasure that she couldn’t begin to describe. All she knew was that she had waited her entire life for this moment and if it was to be her one and only time with Torston, she would die a happy woman. She couldn’t imagine living her life without him, without his touch.
When her exploring fingers reached between their bodies to touch him as he joined with her, Torston suddenly jerked, experiencing such a strong climax that he bit his tongue. His throbbing member touched a special place inside her that sent Alyx over the edge as she experienced her first release. Her body stiffened and she bit off a scream in Torston’s shoulder.
Breathing heavily, they lay entwined in each other’s arms as the ripples of pleasure died away. Torston was still embedded in her as the last of his arousal died away, still savoring the feel of her body around his. Tenderly, he kissed her forehead, feeling more contentment than he’d ever felt in his life.
“Are you well?” he murmured.
Alyx nodded her head. “Verily,” she whispered. “Torston, when I asked if I could kiss you, this was not what I had planned.”
He chuckled. “Nor I,” he said, pulling back so he could look her in the eyes. “But I am not sorry. If this was not…”
She cut him off, putting her fingers
on his lips to silence him. “I am not sorry, either,” she said. “This is where I was meant to be, for I have always belonged to you. Don’t you know that?”
He nodded, smoothing away blond curls from her face. “We will be strong together, you and I, come what may. Agreed?”
She nodded. “Come what may.”
“We do not surrender unless there is no other choice. I will not give you up without a hell of a fight, Alyx. I swear it.”
“Nor I, you.”
“Then we are brave together.”
“I promise I will be. I will do my very best.”
He kissed her again, tenderly, withdrawing from her body and pulling the edge of the blanket up over them both. He pulled her against him, tightly, thinking that he had just done a very bad thing for his emotional stability. He’d claimed the woman as he’d never claimed anyone in his life and she was indelibly a part of him now. It was going to make any future struggles or failures that much more difficult.
She was part of him.
But the deed was done. There was no turning back now. Torston lay there for most of the night, listening to the fire crackle, smelling the burned pea potage, and listening to Alyx snore softly in his arms.
It was the best night of his life.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“I hope she had a good evening. I hope it didn’t end in her tearing the hair out of Torston’s betrothed and being thrown in the vault as a result.”
The ironic words came from Winslow as he, Lance, Dyl, and a small contingent from Makendon Castle made their way to The Lyceum in search of an errant young woman who had vanished from Makendon yesterday. Lance was trying desperately not to laugh at Winslow’s comments, true as they were.
“I am sure she behaved herself,” he said, though he wasn’t sure if he believed it. “Considering she left a flower on your table, we know she saw the invitation. There is no great mystery about her absence when we failed to locate her last night.”
Winslow knew that Lance was silently laughing about the situation, mostly because it was so ridiculous that it was, indeed, laughable. He’d been foolish enough to leave that invitation from The Lyceum in his solar and his daughter had read it. She’d taken it upon herself to go to The Lyceum and Winslow could only hope that Torston was able to control her before she gouged the eyes out of the poor young woman that Torston happened to be betrothed to.
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