Templeton, Julia

by The Bargain

  She opened her mouth as though to argue, but closed it just as quickly. "Thank you, my lord."

  Aleysia wrinkled her nose as she entered the tower. The large room smelled dank and musty, to the point she fought to catch her breath. The only air came from a small window with large iron bars, which was up too high to see out of. Something scurried out of the corner and Aleysia gasped, placing a hand over her pounding heart.

  "Aleysia," Adelstan said, rising from the small cot that had been shoved against a wall.

  Aleysia rushed toward her brother, her stomach knotting at the sight of shackles on his wrists and ankles. The skin had already been rubbed raw. "How are you faring?" she asked, hugging him tightly.

  "As well as can be expected given the circumstances."

  "You are so cold. Do they not give you a blanket?"

  "Aye, a scratchy one, but it gives me some warmth. What of you?" Putting her at arm's length, his gaze wandered down her length and up again. He knew she had not worn a gown for years, even though Duncan had requested she do so a time or two.

  She forced herself to meet his gaze. "I am well."

  His green eyes questioned what he could not ask.

  "Do you get enough to eat?" she asked, hoping to avoid any questions pertaining to Renaud, or why she now wore a gown.

  "Aleysia, tell me that you have not done something foolish."

  Shame washed over her in waves. If only he knew the truth. "I do what I must."

  He looked toward the open door, where Renaud and the guards stood conversing. "You gave yourself to him?" The words were little more than a whisper, but she could hear and see his despair.

  "I will do whatever I must to save you."

  He cursed under his breath. "I will kill him one day. I swear it."

  Aleysia ignored the disturbing image his words caused. Though she disliked the Norman, she did not wish him dead.

  "Forgive me for putting you through this. You should have stayed in Scotland. Duncan would have looked after you."

  "I came of my own accord, and well you know it. I would have never let you go without me."

  He smiled a tiny smile.

  She squeezed his hands. "What can I do to help you?"

  "There is nothing that can be done. All our men have fled into Scotland and Wales, taking refuge where they can. God willing, they will be safe from Williams tyranny. If the opportunity should arise, I want you to run, sister. Do not look back."

  "I will not leave you."

  His hold on her tightened. "You must. Forget me. My fate has been decided." She hated the look of defeat in his eyes, and it scared her. Adelstan had given up.

  "There is something I have thought of." She lowered her voice. "Do you remember the potion the healer made for Mother's headaches? The one that made her sleep soundly."

  Adelstan nodded. "Indeed, Father said she slept like the dead."

  "Mayhap I can convince Renaud to let me visit the healer to have her come tend your wounds," she said, nodding toward his raw wrists. "I can ask her to prepare the draught for us, and I will return to get it. When the time is right, I will give the guards a dose and de Wulf as well."

  "Think you it would work?"

  Hearing the excitement in his voice, she nodded. "If I can gain his trust in the meantime, then we will have a very good chance."

  "But what must you do to gain his trust?"

  "Nothing that I have not done already."

  He closed his eyes for a moment, but when he opened them again he looked past her, to the doorway. "What if he discovers the draught? You could ruin your only chance at escape, and they could even hang you. I have seen it done before, Aleysia. We are surrounded by the enemy and you must never forget that. Not for a moment."

  "I do not want to live in a world without you, Adelstan. I have lost too much already." She kissed his cheek. "We will do this. We will. Soon we will be back in Scotland, growing old together."

  His eyes glimmered with renewed hope.

  "Aleysia, it is time to take our leave," Renaud said, stepping into the room.

  She jumped at the sound of the Normans voice. Surely, he had not heard the two of them discussing their plans? She prayed not. "A moment only," she replied.

  Taking her brother's face between her palms, she kissed each cheek. "Stay strong. I shall visit soon."

  Adelstan's nostrils flared in his effort to contain his emotions. "God keep you."

  Without another word, she turned and walked toward Renaud, taking the hand he held out to her.

  CHAPTER 5

  He was so quiet.

  Too quiet.

  Aleysia looked up from her embroidery to find Renaud watching her. He had been sitting in a high-backed chair before the fire, staring into the flames for the past hour, yet just now she had felt his silver gaze boring into her.

  Had he overheard her discussion with Adelstan? He had allowed her to go to the healer and ask for her to tend Adelstan's wounds—but he had also sent three guards along to make sure she made it without incident. If he had heard the plan, he would not have allowed her to go to begin with.

  The healer, an old woman who had so faithfully served her parents, agreed to tend Adelstan's wrists and ankles. The guards had slipped inside the hut just after she'd asked the old woman about the draught. Thank goodness the healer had readily agreed to help her.

  Now all she had to do was wait, and hopefully gain Renaud's trust.

  A heavy sigh broke into her thoughts. Renaud ran a hand through his already tousled hair. How restless he seemed. She prayed he did not guess at her treachery.

  Her stomach clenched, knowing she flirted with danger, and her brother's life. Unable to stand his intent gaze any longer, she set her embroidery aside and stood.

  He shifted in the chair.

  She met his gaze boldly, and nodded toward the bed. "My lord, do you wish to join me?"

  His expression did not falter, though he did lift a dark brow. "I am not tired."

  Fear rippled along her spine as she walked toward him, forcing herself to remain calm.

  He watched her approach warily, his gray eyes intense with an emotion she couldn't decipher. Undaunted, she continued, noting that his gaze shifted over her... like a slow caress. Visions of the night spent in his arms raced through her mind, flooding her with warmth.

  Going on her knees beside him, she rested her hands on her lap and met his gaze. "Did you have a difficult day, my lord? You seem distracted."

  Reaching out, he touched her hair lightly, before his long fingers gently combed through the tresses. "You have beautiful hair, Aleysia. Like silk."

  No matter how much she tried to deny it—his touch was like heaven, sending shards of pleasure pulsing throughout her. Already her body responded to his touch. Her nipples sensitive, tightening into small little buds. Even the space between her thighs grew wet and hot.

  He lifted a curl to his nose and breathed deeply. "Lavender," he said with a soft smile.

  She nodded, wishing he were not so handsome. How old Duncan seemed to her now. In fact, she found it difficult to conjure up her betrothed's image. Would she find the same pleasure in Duncans arms as she had in Renaud's? Were all men the same in that way? She did know that Renaud's body was pleasing to look at—both with and without clothing. She could stare at his naked body for hours. For some reason she could not imagine Duncan nude. The very thought made her shudder.

  "A man could get lost in your eyes." A moment later his mouth descended on hers, and the next thing she knew, he pulled her onto his lap. His powerful thighs felt rock-hard against the backs of hers.

  Desire swept throughout her body as his hand moved down her throat, over her breast, cupping it through the soft material of her gown. His thumb brushed the sensitive nipple, and she could feel the hard ridge of his arousal pressed against her hip.

  Resting a hand against his chest, she felt the mad thumping of his heart, matching the rhythm of her own. Feeling daring, her fingers ventured over h
is hard stomach and the fine line of hair that trailed down to his impressive cock. You can do this, Aleysia.

  She gasped in surprise when he lightly pinched her nipple; the sensation was not at all unpleasant. In fact, it seemed to heighten her need, and sent a rush of heat to her groin.

  Boldly, she slid her hand inside his braies, her fingers brushing over the plum-sized crown of his erection. His sharp intake of breath told her he was surprised by her actions, but he did not stop her. Rather, he guided her by laying his hand over hers, prompting her to grip his length firmly.

  The velvety feel of him was in such contrast to the steely length she held, the beating of it matching the rhythm of his heart. And with each stroke of her fingers over him, he grew longer, thicker, harder. She was anxious to experience what she had only just discovered last night. Excitement rushed through her body, making the flesh between her thighs tingle.

  He lifted her then, to where she faced him, straddling his thighs. His shaft rose between them—huge, the veins prominent. Her insides contracted.

  And though she tried to tell herself she did this to gain his trust, she enjoyed it.

  Oh, how she wanted him.

  His fingers brushed over her slick, sensitive folds, then one finger slipped inside her while his thumb stroked her hidden pearl. "You're already wet, Aleysia," he said in a husky voice.

  Tightening her grip on his cock, she grew more daring, her strokes faster. His breathing grew ragged and he shifted yet again. "I can wait no longer," he said, guiding her above his erection. She sank down on him slowly, inch by inch, his thick length stretching her.

  His eyes closed as she settled on him, and he groaned as if in pain. She felt awkward, unsure what to do. Tentatively, she moved, shifting her hips, getting accustomed to the feel of him buried deep inside her. An exquisite ache rippled throughout her body.

  Renaud suddenly opened his eyes and her heart missed a beat. His heavy-lidded gaze was so hot and penetrating, he looked as though he could devour her.

  Settling his hands back on her hips, he lifted her up, then down, showing her what he wanted... the pace he desired.

  Gripping the back of the chair for support, she started to ride him, much in the way she would ride her horse. He dipped his head, kissing the swell of her breasts before taking a nipple into his mouth, sucking through the thin material of her gown, using his teeth in a way that made her want to moan with ecstasy.

  But she bit her lip to keep from crying out. The feelings raging within her intensified with each down stroke. His breathing grew rough, his fingers curled around her hips.

  Abruptly, he stood, bringing her with him. He fell to his knees on the rug, and eased her onto her back. Their bodies still joined, he rose above her, his arms bracing his weight. He looked down at where his body entered hers, and her gaze followed.

  Heat swirled through her veins as she watched his thick, long cock, slick with her juices, slide within her, and retreat. His hips moved fluidly, in a rhythm that had her meeting his every thrust.

  His gaze found hers, and she could tell he fought to refrain from spending within her before she met her completion. Reaching between their bodies, he stroked her bud with the pad of his thumb.

  Every inch of her pulsed with pleasure, intensifying to that incredible pinnacle she'd discovered just last night. "Come for me, Aleysia," he said, the words so shockingly explicit, she felt her face flush with not just embarrassment but pleasure.

  How wicked she had become in such a short time.

  She climbed toward the stars, the pressure in her body building— pushing toward that unbelievable high. With a hard thrust he ground into her, giving her every inch of his delicious cock, holding her hips to keep her from moving away. Climaxing, her channel tightened around him, pulsing, throbbing, pulling him in deeper.

  With a satisfied groan he came, his hot seed pouring inside her. He rolled to his side, bringing her along with him. For a few silent moments she fought to catch her breath, before becoming aware of her surroundings. The wooden beams above her, the soft rug beneath her, the crackling fire behind her, and the man beside her.

  He still held her, his fingers brushing lazily along her spine, but he looked toward the flames, the fire casting half his face in shadow. Once again his brow furrowed.

  Silence.

  His braies were still down around his knees, her kirtle up about her hips. Embarrassed at their fevered coupling and how much she had enjoyed it, she pushed her skirts down over her legs.

  Going up on her elbow, she placed a hand on his chest. "What ails you, Renaud?"

  He glanced at her, his troubled gaze searching her face.

  She saw the hesitation in his eyes, and no longer was she worried that he had found out about the healer and the sleeping draught. Somehow she knew what his tortured gaze meant.

  He smoothed her hair back from her face. "I received a summons from King William today."

  The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She sat up abruptly, and his hand fell away.

  "He wants Adelstan brought to York."

  She shook her head. "Nay."

  "We are to leave in a fortnight."

  The trembling began deep within her and drew outward until she shook like a leaf. "Nay, you cannot. William will have his head." She scrambled to her feet. "You promised!"

  Worse than his silence was the simple fact he did not deny it. How could she have ever believed Renaud de Wulf would show mercy? What a fool she had been to trust him.

  He would be leaving—taking Adelstan to certain death. She must get the draught. They must escape now, before it was too late. The thought of life without her brother was too painful... unthinkable. "You gave me your word, Renaud. You agreed to our bargain."

  "And I have kept your brother safe, Aleysia."

  "Aye, you did, but what now? You merely kept him alive so your king would have the privilege of killing him!"

  He stood slowly, pulling his braies up and tying them. "I promised nothing."

  He could not even look at her.

  She shook her head, not believing her ears. She had given this monster her maidenhead, thinking she would buy them time, but he had no intention of giving her or Adelstan leniency. "I beg that you let him go. Tell William that he escaped."

  Finally, he looked at her, and his eyes were full of regret. "I cannot do that, Aleysia."

  She felt like her world had been ripped out from beneath her. "Why not?"

  "He is my king, and I have given him my word."

  "And what of your promise to me?"

  His gaze shifted over her slowly. "You will stay at Braemere. I will speak to King William. Mayhap he will show mercy. In fact, I am prepared to ask for your hand."

  "I would never marry a Norman!"

  His gaze turned cold. "You would rather suffer the same fate as your brother than be my wife?"

  She nodded and tears slipped down her cheeks. "Aye, I would." He frowned and reached for her.

  She jumped away. "Do not touch me ever again! We had a bargain and you have failed to live up to your end. I ask that you release me now. Put me in the tower with my brother, for I will not live without him."

  He stepped toward her and lifted her chin with strong fingers, wiping away the tears with his thumbs, his expression softer than moments before. "I am not prepared to let you go."

  She took hold of his wrist. "Then let Adelstan go, Renaud. You have the power to release him. Let him escape to Scotland. Tell William what you must—that Adelstan is dead, but let my brother live."

  His finger slipped down over her throat and the pulse beating wildly there. "Release him—so he can return with Laird MacMillan to demand your freedom? I cannot take that chance." He bent his head as though to kiss her, but she pulled away so fast, she nearly stumbled back into the chair where she had ridden him moments ago.

  "I do not belong to you—nor do I want you."

  The sides of his mouth slowly lifted in a cruel smile. "Oh but you do, A
leysia. You want me as badly as I want you."

  "I hate you!"

  His jaw tensed, the nerve working there. "You will be my woman, Aleysia. You would be wise to accept that."

  "I am not your woman, nor will I ever be." She ignored the warning bells in her head and slapped his hand away. "I will marry Laird MacMillan."

  With a flick of his wrist he pulled her against him. "You are my woman, not MacMillan's. Think you he would still want you, knowing that you came willingly to my bed?"

  The words were as effective as a sharp slap to the face. "I did what I must for duty's sake. Little did I know you would not hold up your end of the bargain. Duncan will forgive me."

  His eyes narrowed dangerously.

  A blush raced up her cheeks but she forced herself to keep his gaze. "Duncan is a gentleman and he will have me still. He loves me— and I love him," she lied.

  He flinched as though she'd struck him. "And what if you carry my babe? Would he still love you then?"

  Her stomach rolled, for honestly she did not know the answer. In truth, she could already be carrying de Wulf s child. She had heard of women being ostracized from their villages because they'd given birth to a bastard child. "Duncan would raise the babe as his own."

  "He will not have the opportunity," Renaud snarled through gritted teeth. "And he will not have you."

  "I am not your property, bought and paid for. I am a woman who can make her own decisions and I choose to return to Scotland, to my betrothed."

  His fingers gripped her arm tighter. "I thought you wanted to be imprisoned with your brother?"

  A sudden knock at the door made her jump. In truth, she was thankful for the interruption. However, it appeared Renaud felt differently as he scowled at the door. "Go away!" he yelled.

  "My lord, there is an urgent matter you need to attend to," Galeran said, his tone intent.

  Cursing under his breath, Renaud released her before striding toward the door. He wrenched it open.

  Galeran stood with a handful of men, all wearing full chain mail. "Laird MacMillan requests your presence." The vassal's gaze shifted to Aleysia. "He says to bring his woman."

  Relief rushed over Aleysia in waves. Duncan was here, and he would bargain for their lives! Hope stirred within her.