“I’ll make you believe in magic,” he whispered into her ear.
“Never,” she vowed, but laughed the next moment as his fingers tickled her ribs. “Kieran!”
Her good mood lasted until they reached their destination. Kieran had chosen the safest dwelling he could think of to hide them from both Sir Anton and Sir Daman Seymour, but Glenys, upon seeing it, didn’t seem to think it quite as good a choice.
“Oh, no,” she said, twisting about to give Kieran a sharp-eyed glare. “Not here.”
“Aye,” Kieran replied, swinging down from Nimrod. “Here. There is no better place.” He held his hands up to pull her to the ground, steadying her until she gained her feet, then holding on to her when she angrily tried to struggle out of his grasp. Beside them, Jean-Marc and Dina were dismounting from Strumpet. “This is the only place where we’ll be fully safe from discovery by Sir Anton. It was all he could do to sit for a quarter of an hour at the Black Raven in London. He’d not last a full minute at Berte’s.” He laughed. “Though I’d like to see him try it, surrounded by Berte’s girls.”
“I will not set foot inside that dwelling,” Glenys vowed tautly, jabbing a finger at the brothel, which was very well known in this particular part of Wales. “I refuse. You’ve taken Dina and me into hovels and thieves’ dens and the lowliest dwellings on God’s earth, but you’ll not lodge us in a brothel.”
Kieran had anticipated Glenys’s refusal, and ignored it. He began to untie their belongings from Nimrod’s saddle.
“There is no other place,” he repeated. “And ’tis not so bad as you might think. I’ve spent many a night at Berte’s and know it well. ’Tis clean and dry and the beds are comfortable.”
“Aye,” she said angrily, setting her hands on her hips, “I imagine you’ve tried them all and found none lacking.”
Kieran smiled at the jealousy in Glenys’s voice, finding it rather delightful. He turned to her and slid an arm about her waist, ignoring her struggles and drawing her near. Kissing her soundly right in front of anyone who happened to be passing by, he murmured into her ear, “I don’t deny the truth of what you say, but I vow I’ll only try one bed this visit, and share it with but one lady, and her as sharp as a dagger and fierce as a warrior.” He kissed her again before she could slip away.
“Kieran!”
“And as wicked as any of Berte’s girls, I vow,” he said before releasing her at last. She was still angry, he could tell, but couldn’t hide the smile that strove to tilt her lips upward. Kieran couldn’t resist leaning forward to add, in a soft tone, “Mayhap you could teach them a few things, eh?”
She uttered a laugh. “You’re the very devil, Kieran FitzAllen. And I’m not going into that brothel.”
Kieran hefted a leather bag over his shoulder and winked at her. “We’ll see, Mistress Glenys.”
Somehow, he got her inside the place. Glenys wasn’t quite certain how it was that her resolve had crumbled, though perhaps the fact that he’d stood out in the street, beneath the midday sun and in front of dozens of strangers, kissing her over and over again until she at last agreed, might have been what did it. She’d muttered that people would mistake her for one of the girls at the brothel, so she might as well go inside. Kieran’s laughter had followed her all the way to the door.
Inside, his laughter died away, far more out of necessity than desire, she was certain. No sooner had the rogue set foot in the brothel than the entire building erupted with shouts and squeals, and a herd of half-dressed females descended upon both him and Jean-Marc. Glenys and Dina were pushed aside without care, and stood, watching, as the two men were squeezed and kissed and fondled and exclaimed over. Glenys noticed that neither Kieran nor Jean-Marc seemed much inclined to bring such lewd behavior to a halt. S’truth, they seemed to like the attention very much.
The chattering of the herd was overwhelmingly loud and silly. Glenys heard snatches of half-finished sentences, such as, “Oh, Kieran, I’m so glad—!” and “Jean-Marc, I can’t wait until—!” and “Oh, it’s been so long, Kieran! Why haven’t you—”
“Silence!”
This particular female voice was too compelling to ignore. The noise died away and all eyes turned to the woman who stood upon the dwelling’s stairs, midway between the spacious lower level and whatever was above. A stunningly beautiful woman, though somewhat older than any among the gaggle of girls surrounding Kieran and Jean-Marc, she had long black hair that fell unbound to her waist, and lips that had been dabbed with red dye. She was dressed in nothing more than a thin chemise, almost as if she’d just come from bed, and her full, curved figure was readily evident beneath it. Her blue eyes, very light in color and somewhat unnerving, surveyed the scene before her, settling at last upon Kieran in a way that made Glenys blink twice. She’d never seen such open lust in her life. The woman looked as if she might pounce on Kieran and devour him whole, uncaring of onlookers.
Heart pounding painfully, Glenys chanced a glance at Kieran. He was gazing at the woman in return, but there was nothing that she could see in his eyes save warmth and friendship, a gladness to see an old acquaintance that matched what he’d shown to his friends at Bostwick’s.
But still Glenys felt troubled. Clearly, Kieran and this woman had been lovers. Indeed, Kieran and every woman in the place had most likely been lovers. That had been the way of his life, and ever would be, regardless of what had passed between him and Glenys.
As if sensing her regard, Kieran turned to look at her. He smiled and winked in a reassuring manner, and began to put the women surrounding him gently aside. Before he could be entirely free of them, the beautiful woman had descended the stairs to stand in front of him.
“Kieran, love,” she murmured in a deep, rich voice, setting a hand upon his chest and sliding it slowly upward until it rested upon his stubbly cheek. “What a wonderful surprise. I was just thinking that you and Jean-Marc would be coming to visit us soon. ’Tis that time of year, is it not?” She pressed closer, moving her body seductively against his. “We’ll have to give you a special welcome this evening. But first, I’ll have you to myself. Come upstairs and I’ll make you most comfortable after all your travels.”
“Um, Berte,” Kieran began, taking her hand and pulling it away, “I fear we’ve come for a different purpose this time…Glenys!”
Glenys had had enough. She took Dina by the arm and pulled her toward the still open door, striding out of the brothel and into the sunlight once more. Dina walked beside her without resistance, her face pale and her eyes filled with obvious dismay. The poor girl had been submitted to far too much these past many days and nights, and Glenys cursed her own weakness in not striving to protect her innocent maid more fully.
“We’ll go to Master Tremayne at once,” she said aloud. “He’ll be surprised to see us in such a filthy state, but that cannot be helped. And as he’s been the Seymours’ banker in Aberteifi for nigh on forty years, I cannot but think that he’ll lend us his aid. Aye,” she said more assuredly, walking down the road without noting her direction, “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. We’ll be rid of these heartless, lecherous knaves.”
Dina replied with a sob.
“Glenys!”
Kieran wasn’t far behind them. Glenys began to walk more quickly, pulling Dina along.
“Dina!”
At the sound of Jean-Marc’s unhappy, pleading voice, Dina’s steps slowed, but Glenys said, “Don’t listen to that scoundrel. He was covered in women.” She pulled her on.
“By the saints,” said Kieran from closer yet, “you’re the most stubborn female God e’er made. Glenys, stop!”
His hand closed over her arm, but she yanked free and, head held high, kept walking.
“You’re coming back with me, whether you wish it or not,” he told her, aggravation heavy in his tone, and his fingers tightened on her arm again, pulling her to a stop.
She jerked free once more and rounded on him furiously, shouting, “By God,
I’m not! Do you think I’ll stand in the corner, watching as you and Mistress Berte fondle each other?”
For the first time since she’d known him, his cheeks pinked, almost as if he felt some measure of shame. He opened his mouth to answer her, but Dina’s weeping voice stopped him.
“Don’t you dare to touch me!” Dina cried, slapping Jean-Marc’s hands away. “After all you’ve said to me…after all we’ve done…and especially last night!” She covered her face with both hands and burst into loud tears.
“Dina,” Jean-Marc pleaded miserably, trying to take her in his arms. “I meant everything I said. Dina, please, only listen to me.”
She shoved him away, shaking her head and weeping even more loudly.
A crowd had begun to gather around them, murmuring.
“Sir Anton won’t need to ask for word of us,” Kieran muttered angrily. “The whole of Wales will be talking!” The next moment he bent and picked Glenys up, slinging her over his shoulder.
Glenys uttered a furious shout and began to pound his back with both fists. “Kieran FitzAllen!”
He slapped her bottom with a stinging hand. “Quiet, woman!” he said in a loud voice, turning about to face their onlookers. “Two of Berte’s new girls,” he told them cheerfully, ignoring Glenys’s outraged screams. “They didn’t like their chambers.” He laughed and the onlookers laughed, too. “But we’ll see that they’re made happy,” Kieran vowed, slapping Glenys’s bottom once more to stop her squirming. “Come along, lad, and let’s return these strumpets to their good mistress.”
Glenys heard Dina’s cry as Jean-Marc followed Kieran’s example and slung her over his shoulder, though he did so saying, apologetically, “Dina, please don’t be angry.”
Kieran strode back toward Berte’s brothel with long, rapid strides, while Glenys flopped on his shoulder, still trying to push herself free.
“Be still,” Kieran commanded in a taut voice, his arms tightening their hold on her as he bounded up the two steps leading to the brothel’s entrance. “Make way, my dears,” he said aloud, and Glenys could hear, rather than see, the women in the dwelling moving aside to make a path. Still Kieran didn’t stop, but headed for the stairway.
“Where are you going?” Berte cried. Glenys lifted her head to see the beautiful woman standing with her hands on her hips, glaring at them angrily. Behind her, Jean-Marc entered the dwelling, carrying a furiously unhappy Dina.
“I’m going to borrow your chamber for a few moments,” Kieran called down to the brothel’s mistress. “We’ll disturb nothing, have no fear.”
“Kieran!”
He kept climbing the stairs. “I apologize, Berte, but it can’t be helped. I’ll be down shortly to explain in full. Until then, leave us in peace, I pray.”
They reached the next landing, and the bewildered faces that Glenys, from her unusual position, was gazing at disappeared. Kieran walked the length of a hallway and opened a door, walking into the chamber beyond and shutting the door behind them. He threw the iron bolt before turning about and setting Glenys on her feet.
She was in a murderous fury, and balled up a fist to strike him full across the face, but he grabbed her hand before she could do so and said, “You can scream and shout at me all you like in a moment, but first you will listen to me.”
Glenys flung herself away, turned about…and fell suddenly still.
“Sweet Holy Mother,” she uttered, wide-eyed and astonished at the sight before her. She’d never been in a whore’s bedchamber before, and it was something of a revelation. The walls were covered with tapestries depicting scenes that Glenys had never been exposed to before. Men and women, all nude, in every manner of embrace, from loving to lewd. She stared at each tapestry—four in all, quite large—wondering how anyone could have created them without blushing the whole while. And who on God’s earth would sew such things?
Behind her, Kieran cleared his throat. “Berte’s tastes are rather…unusual,” he said.
Glenys moved farther into the chamber, nodding. “Indeed,” she murmured, turning about and taking everything in.
It was drowning in red silk, from the bed curtains and coverings to the window coverings and the cloth that covered each piece of furniture in the room. Here and there gold trim drew the eye, but otherwise, it was a sea of gleaming red. In its opulence, it was very much like Lady Eunice’s richly decorated bathing chamber. In every other way, it was completely different.
Glenys’s gaze fell on the bed, which looked as if it had been recently occupied. It was set in the center of the room, the focus of the entire chamber, and was large enough to comfortably accommodate five people. She could almost see Kieran lying upon it, with the beautiful Berte in his embrace, just as Glenys had lain in that same embrace these many nights past.
His fingers gently touched her arm, and she moved away.
Kieran sighed in a resigned manner. “Everything you’re thinking is true,” he said, “and far worse, i’faith. I never said that I wasn’t a bad man, Glenys, or that I hadn’t lain with other women.”
“A great many of them,” she said.
“Aye.” He sighed again. “I probably couldn’t set a number to them. And there’s naught that can be done to make them disappear. They are all there, along with the rest of my sins and crimes and lacks. And the worst among them is that I let myself love you. This, I think, is a sin that cannot be forgiven, by either you or God.” He moved slowly until he stood behind her. “But I couldn’t find the way to stop what I felt. ’Tis no excuse, Glenys, yet ’tis all I can say. I knew ’twas wrong to bind you to me in any manner, but I am the worst man on God’s earth, and gave way to what I desired. I have only redeemed myself in that I have not taken your maidenhead. If I had loved you less, I would have done so—God alone knows how truly I speak. But this ruin I could not bring to you.” He touched her arm again, so uncertainly that Glenys’s heart, already softened by his sweet words, could not withstand the gentle pleading behind the gesture. “I love you,” he whispered. “I have no other defense or way to ask forgiveness. Glenys…will you not even speak to me?”
“You called me a strumpet in front of all those people,” she said. “You m-made them think that Dina and I are w-whores. In this brothel.”
“What else could I do?” he asked with desperation. “Should I have said your name aloud, or treated you as a grand lady? If Sir Anton is looking for you, what better way than that to have word of you reach him?”
Glenys hid her face in her hands. “What if someone who recognizes me saw and heard? My family is well-known in Aberteifi.” She groaned at the thought.
Kieran’s hands curled over her shoulders, comforting now. “Nay, Glenys, they would not know you. Not as you are now, with your dress so dirty and worn from travel. Nor with your hair so tangled and undone. I can only pray that none took note of the color, else Sir Anton will surely know ’tis you, and that you’re in Cardigan. But you must have no fears, even if he should discover the truth. I have told you that I will keep you safe, and I will do so.”
She nodded, lowering her hands and gazing at the tapestry on the nearest wall. It depicted a scene of such astonishing wickedness that Glenys couldn’t conceive that ’twas possible for a man and woman to do such a thing. It looked painful, the way the woman’s back was bent so far, and the man’s legs—nay, surely he’d fall right on his face after but a few moments. Wouldn’t he? She titled her head to better observe the position.
“Glenys, you are a naughty, wicked woman, gazing at such things.” Kieran actually gave her a shake to break her consideration of the work before them. “I’ll tell Daman when I see him, and he’ll beat you.”
Glenys pulled free, walking a few paces forward to examine an intricately carved wooden box set upon a table. “It matters not. He’ll beat the both of us without mercy once he discovers what has happened between us.”
“There is no need for him to know the truth,” Kieran said, watching her intently. “I will say nothing of
it to him, if you wish.”
She couldn’t look at him, but stared at the box, running a finger over the highly polished top. “Is it what you wish? To pretend that we have never lain together?”
He let out a harsh breath, uttering, “Nay. But I’m a selfish knave, and ever have been. You are the better between us, Glenys. You must say how it shall be—and if you wish there to be nothing more after today.”
She was silent for a long while before finding the courage to speak. “’Tis hard for me,” she said. “You cannot know how hard. You are very beautiful to gaze upon, and ever have been, I believe. I am not beautiful, and have never been, not even as a child. I have grown used to the truth of that.” She swallowed hard. “But I do not think I have ever felt so ugly as I do at this moment. Though mayhap many women would feel lacking in the presence of Mistress Berte and her collection of naked females.”
“Partly naked,” Kieran corrected, though without humor in his voice, as she might have expected.
“Aye,” she admitted, equally dismal. “Just partly.”
He stood where he was for a moment, staring at her, then uttered a terrible curse and strode away to the other side of the room, tossing back a red silk panel to reveal a window, out of which he gazed. For a long while they were both quiet, and Glenys stood where she was, her finger moving idly over the wooden box, a feeling of dread in her belly. He would tell her the truth now, she knew, despite the declarations of love he’d made before. He would tell her that she was ugly, and that he wanted nothing more to do with her because she was petulant and childish as well, and no man could want such an ugly, ugly female when he had so many beautiful ones throwing themselves at him. She was a fool. She had just pushed away the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to her—something that would never happen to her again once she and Kieran parted ways. God’s mercy, she would spend all of her life regretting what she had just done.
The Prisoner Bride Page 16
