Sin and Surrender

by Julia Latham

  “I am a man among boys.” He had a momentary thought that he didn’t want her ever having other men, but it was not his place to control her. “But I could do with a lesson in intimacy.”

  “That, I can grant.”

  Their lovemaking was wild and exuberant. He was amazed at how different sex was with a woman who had a lithe, muscular body and knew how to use it.

  And it was good that he didn’t have to worry about a child, Juliana’s child—but for some strange reason, he had to keep telling himself that.

  The next day, Paul did not have to work hard to find a way to speak privately to Alex, to learn more about Juliana. They were facing each other in the first round of jousting, and Paul let himself be defeated—on the fourth pass. He didn’t want to make it seem too easy.

  Alex apologized after they’d dismounted.

  Paul laughed. “Never apologize. You defeated me, and I congratulate you.”

  “I simply never thought I would be able to defeat someone like you.” Alex only met his gaze briefly, seeming uncomfortable.

  “Someone like me?” Paul echoed, wondering what Paul suspected.

  “There are whispers … oh, you would think them ridiculous.”

  “Maybe I would be flattered.”

  “Nay, I cannot even repeat them. They could be dangerous.” Soberly, he met his gaze. “Take care of yourself—and Juliana. There are people here who might wish you harm.”

  Paul nodded.

  Side by side, they walked their horses back to the immense temporary stables that had been set up in a field.

  “Alex, I would like to know more about my Juliana, but she does not speak much of the past.”

  Alex’s expression was now wary. Paul thought with exasperation that he’d never met a man less capable of hiding his emotions.

  “She must have her reasons for her silence,” Alex said.

  “I know about the charges against her father.”

  His eyes widened. “She trusted you with that?”

  “Aye, she did. But her father died before he could be found guilty. She says the king took her father’s lands and wealth, but that was several years ago. She claims nothing from her past, not even mementoes of her childhood, and that is not right to me. Perhaps she’d like to visit.”

  “She wouldn’t want to do that.” Alex sighed. “I was too late to reach her before she … disappeared, but her people told me that those final weeks of hardship, trying to find a place to live, watching her mother die, were certainly some of the worst moments in her life. I cannot believe she would wish to return and experience those memories—and regret what is no longer hers.”

  Paul nodded. “You are right. I did not see it that way. You have my thanks.”

  “I—I do not wish to see her hurt,” Alex said in a low voice.

  Was there a subtle threat hidden there? Paul wondered with amused respect. “And I do not plan to hurt her.”

  Juliana found herself watching Paul from afar more than before. Yesterday he’d been speaking with Michael, and today it was Alex.

  Margaret stood at her side next to the spectators’ stands, wringing her hands. “You do not think Sir Paul is angry with Alex, do you?”

  “Nay, he is not a man who places much emphasis on pageants such as this.”

  Although she placated Margaret, she could not quell her own feelings of uneasiness—and she didn’t know why. She’d given Paul her body; surely that meant she trusted him.

  But … what did he have to speak to Alex about that seemed so serious?

  She was not going to question him about every conversation he had, especially since he seemed so sweet and amusing when at last they were alone together.

  “Do you know what I saw, Juliana?” he asked, amazement in his blue eyes. “I was seated next to Lady Kilborn, and her stomach moved.”

  Juliana blinked at him. “She is with child, Paul.”

  “I did not realize a child was so active.”

  “Have you never seen a pregnant woman before?”

  “Only from a distance. But this time, one of Lady Kilborn’s ladies-in-waiting put her hand on the countess’s belly and felt the child move herself.”

  “Tell me you didn’t ask—”

  “Nay, I did not. But I wanted to.”

  He was a hardened warrior in so many ways—and an innocent in others. Again, she felt doubt and disapproval about the League’s treatment of him. It felt … disloyal, but she loved Paul, and she grieved for his losses.

  Two more days passed, and Paul heard nothing from the traitors, who continued to attend events with their wives, cheering on their retainers, as if they weren’t trying to destroy England’s hard-won peace. What were they doing in private that they didn’t feel they could confide in Paul?

  They left gifts in his bedchamber, including a jeweled pendant. Although meant as a man’s heavy necklace, it still looked perfect between Juliana’s naked breasts.

  After a rousing night of play, Paul was practically whistling as he sent Juliana ahead to break her fast. He ducked down the corridor to the garderobe, needing to relieve himself. He’d only just stepped inside the small chamber, beginning to unfasten his clothing as he stood near the privy seat, when the whistle of metal on metal alerted him, and he ducked.

  He had the brief impression of a large burly man, cloth tied over the lower half of his face, stumbling forward as the empty swing of his sword left him off-balance. If Paul hadn’t seen the man, he might have ended up headfirst in the privy hole—or perhaps just his decapitated head would have disappeared within.

  With his elbow, Paul struck a blow to the man’s sword arm, and the weapon clanged to the ground. Paul’s fist sent the man reeling against the far wall, where he dropped like a sack of wheat.

  He felt like one, too, as Paul carried him back to Timothy’s chamber and left him tied within.

  Down in the great hall, Paul found Juliana sitting with all of their Bladesmen for once, holding court like a queen. She tore a piece of white bread from the loaf and laughed at something Joseph said.

  Timothy glanced at Paul as he took a seat on the bench. “You seem out of breath, Sir Paul.”

  “I was attacked in the garderobe.”

  Juliana inhaled sharply, and the Bladesmen stared at him.

  “There was nothing you could have done, Juliana,” Paul said, taking cheese from her plate. “Unless you plan to follow me every time I take a piss.”

  “What happened?” she demanded in a low voice.

  He briefly told them. “I showed him the error of his ways—but not too forcefully, since he might be defending the king. I didn’t recognize him. Timothy, I left him in your bedchamber. I imagine you can have him taken somewhere safe.”

  Paul found himself returning Timothy’s smile before he looked away.

  A small voice behind Paul said, “You—you were attacked?”

  Paul twisted about to see young Edward Foxe standing behind him, holding his ball under one arm, his little mouth agape. Paul glanced at Juliana, but her expression betrayed nothing.

  “‘Twas not so terrible, Edward,” Paul said, offering a smile.

  “But … you were not competing then. Why would he do that?”

  “I know not, but I do not think he was a nice man.”

  “He’s tied up?” Edward asked, looking about as if evil men lurked in the few shadows of a summer morn.

  “And I will turn him over to the proper authorities, I promise.”

  Edward nodded, but he kept glancing back at Paul once or twice as he walked away.

  “You seem to have made a friend,” Juliana said.

  Was she envious that the boy was reaching out to him?

  But Paul had to put aside Juliana’s problems and his uneasiness with them. He had the mission to think about, and now he had a way to press the traitors. He cornered Sir Hugh before the archery competition, and although the man was furious at Paul for risking exposure, he backed down when Paul told him about the at
tack. Sir Hugh promised he would speak to the earl.

  Juliana reclined naked in bed, waiting for Paul, who’d been called to a meeting with the traitors. These last few nights in his arms had given her so much joy that it was painfully sweet. Though they were all in danger, she almost wished the mission could never end.

  But reality would come, and she would have to accept it.

  Paul returned after midnight, and his frustrated expression faded when he saw her.

  He would have fallen upon her, but she held up a hand. “Not so fast, Sir Eagerness. What did our traitors have to say?”

  He opened his mouth as if to complain—and then grinned.

  “We have dates—we have allies. Although the Irish took a beating at the king’s hands just two months ago, they’re sending more men.”

  She sat up and clenched both fists before her. “At last.”

  “Aye. Even now they make plans for the invasion of the Scots and the Irish, a coordinated insurrection against the king. ‘Tis solid proof, once the king sends scurriers to confirm this. They’ll capture the Scotsmen crossing the border to invade.”

  “We’ll have even more proof soon,” she said.

  “They questioned my preparation for the role, of course, insisting that their allies would interrogate me. They say they haven’t heard from every Englishman who will join them, but I imagine they’ve heard from enough, considering the way rumors seem to be spreading. A woman actually curtsied to me today.”

  Juliana grinned. “Probably just a mark of respect. I’ve been spreading the word of your talents in the bedchamber.”

  Laughing, he tossed a fur cloak onto a chair. “Another gift from my masters, although I begin to feel like their strumpet.”

  “Now you know how I feel.”

  “I think it is to pacify me, because I have a feeling there is something they’re not saying.”

  “Then we remain patient.” Juliana took the fur cloak and spread it out upon the bed, reclining upon it, one knee raised to entice him.

  Paul pulled off his shirt so fast, she heard a seam rip. When he was naked, obviously ready to have his way with her, she stopped him with a hand on his chest. She could feel his racing heart, felt the faint quiver of his muscles as he held himself above her.

  “I wish you to finish what you tried last night, when I was too eager to have you inside me,” she murmured, smiling as she lay back on the cushions, feeling very much the concubine.

  “You’re no longer eager for me?” he teased, but already he took her knees in his hands and spread her thighs.

  Juliana gasped, then laughed as he pulled her to the edge of the bed. But her laughter disappeared, as he met her gaze with dark blue eyes, and bent to press a kiss on her inner thigh, just above her knee. With kisses and caresses with his lips and tongue, it seemed to take forever for him to make his way up her legs. She was quivering and covering her mouth with both hands to hold back her moans, her eyes wide as she stared at him.

  Then he licked her, a long, slow sweep of his tongue at the center of her that made her convulse with the exquisite pleasure of it. He parted her thighs further, lowered his head even more, tasting her, entering her, then following the long, moist line of her cleft until he once again reached the hooded bud that seemed to throb for him. He drew it into his mouth, suckling, licking, tormenting her until her orgasm was a hot, shuddering slide into oblivion.

  Before she could even recover, he lifted her thighs and entered her where he stood, his deep thrusts setting off another explosion of pleasure inside her. It seemed to go on and on, wracking her with sensation. She reached for him, and held him to her as he found his own release.

  Several minutes passed before he could lift his head.

  “That will impress the League,” he said.

  She hit him in the shoulder. But then she soothed the place she’d hit, and gathered him to her when he joined her beneath the coverlet. These quiet moments were the best, when their hearts beat against each other, and she didn’t have to think about a future without him.

  But within her was still a growing feeling that he was keeping something from her.

  Chapter 20

  Lady Kilborn surprised the guests the following morn by asking if the ladies would like to participate in their own archery competition, giving the men a morning of rest. There were several dozen eager entries, and another half dozen who allowed themselves to be persuaded. Juliana let herself be among the latter.

  She pretended to need Timothy as her coach, and they walked the field where targets had been placed against bales of hay. The stands were gradually filling, and she knew Paul was there, with Margaret and Alex at his side.

  “Timothy,” Juliana said in a soft voice.

  He must have heard the change in her tone, because as he worked on testing the tautness of her bow, he kept his voice to a murmur. “Aye?”

  “Is there something more going on with the traitors than I know about?”

  He met her gaze at once, frowning. “Nay, you know everything. I have already sent off this new information about invasion to the League, and hence to the king.”

  She smiled. “I thought so. ‘Twas … nothing. I should not have worried that you would still consider me too young for such a mission.”

  “You are well prepared, Juliana, and you have proven yourself.”

  He handed her the bow, and as she turned away, she noticed that Timothy’s gaze sought out Paul in the crowd, and his frown didn’t lessen.

  Although she let herself take third place among the women, Juliana did not feel triumphant, because Timothy had not truly reassured her.

  Timothy had thought things were better between Paul and him. But Juliana’s concern now became his concern. Was Paul up to something? Juliana seemed to believe it was about the mission, but Timothy knew that wasn’t so. He let his suspicions fester for the morning, watching the parade of mummers arrive for a performance that night. Acrobats tumbled over each other and balanced chairs on their noses, and Paul seemed to enjoy all of it at Juliana’s side.

  Then Timothy saw Paul talking to her cousin, a spinster approaching her elderly years. Timothy had known she might attend, but had not wanted to alert Juliana needlessly. The woman and her sister had rejected Vis countess Gresham’s desperate plea for a place to shelter Juliana.

  Timothy knew that Paul had also been speaking with Alex—all of his behavior had to somehow be connected.

  “They’re here?” Juliana demanded quietly of Paul.

  They sat at a trestle table in the great hall during the midday meal, while outside, the course was being set for the horse racing competition.

  “How did you learn of my cousins?” she asked, when Paul remained silent in commiseration—or pity.

  “Alex.”

  “You are quite friendly with him of late,” she said dryly.

  “Because he is your friend. And in the spirit of friendship, he thought it might be best if I broke the news.”

  “I do not wish to see them.” She pushed away her trencher of roasted beef, surprised that she almost felt nauseous.

  “And you do not have to. They have not seen you since your girlhood. They won’t recognize you.”

  Though Juliana could not blame her mother’s death on these women, she wanted to. If only her mother had felt safe, had known she had a place to bring Juliana, perhaps she wouldn’t have died.

  She searched Paul’s face. “You will not think me cowardly if I avoid them?”

  “Cowardly?” He cupped her cheek and leaned in to kiss her forehead. “I think it wise, for once your infamous temper is unleashed …”

  She bit her lip, but couldn’t hold back a smile. “Infamous temper? I have never heard myself described so.”

  “‘Tis only those who know you well, know the truth.”

  Part of her was annoyed that he felt the need to take care of her—but the part of her that loved him was torn. It was getting more and more difficult to remind herself that this time
with him was temporary, when he did sweet things like this.

  She was tempted to ask what he meant to do when this was done, now that they’d found each other. She suspected he would return to France, and leave behind his memories of the League and the anguish they’d caused.

  There was another part of her that hoped he might have changed his mind, that he might be falling in love with her as well—but his secretive manner told her that couldn’t be true. And regardless, she could never be with a man who kept secrets.

  This even more firmly convinced her she could never wed—she could never keep secrets either.

  But she would not meekly stand by.

  Through the day, Paul sensed Juliana’s retreat from him, saw the close way she regarded him. It was getting more difficult to keep the truth from her. And now she knew what the League had done to him, what they were capable of. It was time for an end to his secrets.

  He knew her better now, knew she would not be devastated that her beloved League had made another grave error.

  That night, he watched her bathe, reveling in their intimacy, almost deciding to forgo any discussion. But he saw her sidelong glance of speculation as she donned her dressing gown, and with a sigh, he resigned himself to what had to be done.

  “I’ve been keeping something from you,” he said.

  She frowned, studying him. “I know. Surely ‘tis about the mission.”

  “Nay, I would never compromise you in such a way. You don’t know that by now?” he smiled at her then, openly showing his enjoyment of her scantily clad state.

  She stared at him, her eyes going soft, dazed. Then she blinked and looked away. “Do not try to befuddle me. It cannot be done.”

  “And I would never try,” he said solemnly, though his lips twitched with amusement.

  “Do not make me pull every detail from you one at a time.” She threw up one hand. “Tell me, Paul. I deserve to know the truth.”

  He stared at her, his smile fading, worried about how she would take a truth that would turn her life upside down.