by The Bargain
Elena's fingers lightly played along his spine and he closed his eyes, content for the first time in his life to lay abed with a woman after intercourse. He could fall asleep right now. Mayhap he would return after checking with his guards for the night, and hold her until dawn.
A knock sounded at the door, interrupting the short-lived peacefulness. "What is it?" Elena called out.
"Forgive the interruption, but is Galeran in there, Lady Elena?" came a guard's voice.
"Aye, I am here," Galeran said, rolling off Elena. He pulled on his braies and tied them before opening the door. "Lady Aleysia is gone."
Galeran's heart sank to his toes. "What do you mean?"
The young guard looked nervous. "The Scot came and took her. A servant said she heard them as they raced through the bailey."
He cursed loudly. "How is that possible? Her room was well guarded."
The soldier dropped his gaze. "They were killed, as were the guards at the gatehouse."
Elena, who had wrapped the blanket around her, stood behind Galeran. "I hope that they did not hurt her."
"Go, get the men together," Galeran said. "I need at least two dozen men ready to ride out within a quarter of an hour."
"Yes, sir."
As the soldier rushed off, Galeran turned to Elena. "Mayhap I should leave more men here to look after you?"
Elena squeezed his hand. "I will be fine, Galeran, as will the fief. There are plenty of soldiers to defend her. Aleysia is the one who needs you most. Go, bring her home."
If there was one thing Renaud could not stand, it was all the regality of his king's court. It seemed that every lord of the realm had journeyed north with William. Despite the fact the north had been in chaos, one would not know it. Men in fine clothing and women with expensive gowns and jewels dripping from fingers, neck, and earlobes, chatted amongst themselves, oblivious of the world outside the high walls of York Castle.
He hated it. Hated the crowds, all the pompous individuals who thought themselves better than those who served them. Personally, he preferred life in the countryside.
A young boy with long blond hair walked by, and Renaud smiled inwardly, remembering well when he had first met Aleysia, when she was dressed much like the lad.
How beautiful she was without all the ornaments of court life. A pure, sensual innocence he hoped she never lost. And once again his insides turned, making him wonder if he would lose her to another this very day. He prayed William would consider all of Renaud's years of faithful service before he took all he held so dear.
He prayed fate would smile upon him today.
Inpatient to have the meeting finished, and be back on the road to Braemere, Renaud took a steadying breath as he approached William, prepared to hear his fate.
This past week he had realized that he needed Aleysia in his life. He did not know if this was love, for he had never experienced such an emotion, but what he felt for Aleysia was stronger than anything he'd felt for any other woman, and he could not imagine his life without her.
Their last night together when they had made love, he had sensed a change in her. He believed that she honestly did not want Duncan. Though she had proven to be untrustworthy, he believed that was behind them now. Gone was the distrust, for he realized why she had done what she had. And then later, when she had touched each of his scars, kissing each one, his heart swelled with emotion.
No woman had dared touch his battle wounds, especially the one on his cheek. They had always been repulsed by the scar. But Aleysia had touched it—even kissed it lovingly, and she had been curious, sincerely wanting to know more about him. He had seen the softness in her eyes and something more. Could it be love? Aye, she felt something for him. Perhaps it was not love, but then again, maybe it was.
And he would not lose her to another. Not when they had come so far in such a short time. Nay, he would fight for her.
For now he must keep his wits, and have confidence that Galeran would maintain order at Braemere, and that William would show him mercy.
He hated to be so far from Aleysia, especially when MacMillan would be returning. Another reason to get this meeting done and over with.
He flinched, remembering the sight as he approached York Castle. The heads of traitorous Saxon's impaled on long pikes that lined the ramparts, a warning to all that William would not tolerate a rebellion. Renaud could not imagine Adelstan's head among the lot of those poor souls.
"De Wulf, it has been a long time," King William said, his tone kind.
William looked well, his eyes still fierce, but a kind smile on his face.
Renaud bowed. "Your Grace."
"'Tis good to see you."
"And you as well, Your Grace. You look in good health."
"As do you. But I understand that Adelstan of Braemere has escaped?"
He certainly had cut to the quick. "Indeed, Your Grace."
"You allowed him to escape." It was not a question.
Hearing the rumblings all around him, Renaud knew more than ever that he stood to lose everything. William did not like to be made a fool of, and he enjoyed making his point by example.
"Why would you do something so foolish, de Wulf? Tis not like you."
"Your Grace, I made a promise to Cawdor's twin."
William's brow furrowed. "What was this promise, and why would you make such a pledge to a Saxon before asking me? Cawdor should have been brought to York. You openly defied my request, and now who knows where this traitor might be? Mayhap he is plotting against me as we speak. What if this Saxon starts yet another uprising?"
"I promised Aleysia of Braemere that I would not kill her brother, and I could not, with good conscience, bring him to his death, Your Grace. The two lost their father and mother when de Pirou raided their fief years ago."
William's eyes narrowed. "And de Pirou took Braemere at my command."
"Indeed, Your Grace, but de Pirou made certain promises to the twins. Instead of following through with those promises, he treated them as servants and even tried to violate Adelstan."
William frowned, his fingernails tapping against the wood of the chair. "Such is the way of war, de Wulf. You know that. Not all promises can be kept. Remember, this man you allowed to escape killed de Pirou, a knight of the realm, one of your brothers in arms."
Renaud would never consider de Pirou a brother in arms, but he would not tell William that. "Indeed, Your Grace. Adelstan killed de Pirou, but he is a valiant young man, who felt compelled to fight with other Saxons, to take back the land his family—"
"You made a promise to his sister? Who is this woman? Why did you not bring her with you to York?"
"Your Grace, I would ask for the hand of Aleysia Cawdor, princess of Braemere."
Williams brows drew together. "You did not bring her with you? Why, did you think she would be in danger?" Renaud nodded. "Aye, I did, Your Grace."
Understanding flickered in the king's eye. "Ah, and so the story unravels. That is why you allowed her brother to escape. You have found favor in this woman—this Saxon."
The last was not a question. Renaud nodded. "I have, Sire."
"What of this Saxon's brother, whom you allowed to flee?"
"I believe him to be in Scotland, where he has lived these past years."
"But for how long? He is no doubt raising an army as we speak. Just as he did these past months. He is most dangerous, de Wulf. You knew this, and still you let him go?" William shook his head. "This is most upsetting news. I am most disappointed in you, Renaud."
"I ask for leniency, Your Grace. Adelstan is a faithful knight who may one day pledge fealty to you. He would be a loyal vassal to you, Your Grace, if given the opportunity."
"And you would give him this opportunity?"
"Indeed, Your Grace. I would consider it a privilege."
William shook his head. "I never believed in all my life that I would be having this conversation with you, Renaud. You were one of my strongest men."
Renaud's mouth went dry. "I still am, Your Grace. You have my sword, you know that."
"I trusted you with a mission. A mission you did not complete, and all for the will of a woman." William stood and paced. "I am sorry, but I cannot give you what you desire."
A stillness settled over the others in the room. Renaud's heart pounded loudly in his ears, fearful of his next words.
William ran a hand over his beard. "For allowing the Saxon Adelstan to escape, you will surrender Braemere."
A collective gasp sounded all around him.
Renaud could barely breathe, but he nodded. "As you wish, Your Grace."
"And I would like this Saxon princess brought to York."
Renaud forced himself to remain calm. "Your Grace, I would ask for Aleysia's hand."
"You are fortunate to retain your lands in Sussex, de Wulf." William's jaw tightened. "Bring the woman to me. I will decide her fate."
Renaud could not respond for a moment, so tight was his throat. "Aye, Your Grace."
"And if this Saxon Adelstan returns to Braemere with an army, you will also lose your lands in Sussex. Is this understood?"
Anger rushed through Renaud, but he forced it aside. He could not risk voicing his displeasure at losing both Braemere and Aleysia, because he could ultimately lose his lands and titles in Sussex and then he would have nothing.
"That will be all, de Wulf."
"Thank you, Your Grace," Renaud replied, turning on his heel and leaving the hall, feeling like he had lost everything he had worked so hard for, but most of all, he had lost the greatest treasure of all.
Aleysia.
CHAPTER 20
Aleysia shivered against the cold rain that pelted against her. They had been traveling for most of the night, and now with the dawning of a new day, she wondered what awaited her when she arrived at Duncan's village. The large Scot had not said a word to her since leaving Braemere.
She had finally given in and leaned back against him, knowing she must appear relieved instead of repulsed. All along she had sensed his anger, and wondered if Renaud had told him the truth about their relationship, or mayhap he had guessed.
Even Duncan's men had been quiet, giving her sidelong glances as they rode by.
They had stopped only once, and that had been when she could no longer hold her bladder. She quickly relieved herself, but Duncan had stayed nearby.
"Be alert!" Duncan shouted, nearly startling Aleysia out of her skin. To the right a large, eerie-looking copse of trees was enshrouded with fog. The hair on her arms stood on end as she squinted, wondering what lurked in the forests. Even when they passed by, she was not able to brush aside the feeling that someone, or something, watched.
A little while later they came upon an old cathedral that sat on the border of England and Scotland. The stone building, full of stained-glass windows, looked out of place in the gloomy surroundings.
Duncan dismounted and held out a hand to help Aleysia down. She accepted, and his hands encircled her waist. "The priest is awaiting."
Her stomach turned. "Priest? What priest?"
The sides of his mouth lifted in an eerie smile that did not reach his eyes. "The priest who will marry us. I will not wait another day, Aleysia. I have waited too long already."
She swallowed hard, looking past Duncan to the cathedral, then to his men, who were busy making camp. "Do not fret, Aleysia. We will not be sleeping in a tent this night. I have secured a hut for us, so I can bed you properly."
Everything within her rebelled, and it must have shone on her face for Duncan laughed without mirth. "Do not act the virgin, Aleysia. I know what transpired between yourself and the Norman."
She could feel her face drain of color. How she yearned to tell Duncan she did not wish to marry him. That her heart belonged to another. But she could not. Duncan would only be more cruel.
"I am just surprised. Why here? Why not at Kilraney?"
"I am most anxious to bed my bride."
Aleysia, bit her lip to keep from responding.
"I imagine you are surprised, especially since you have been spending your nights in the bed of that Norman bastard." Before she knew what he was about, he slapped her hard, making her head jerk back. "You have acted the whore long enough."
She tasted blood on her lips and took a step away. Denying it would only infuriate him more. "I did what I must to save Adelstan."
"Well, you need not worry any longer about your brother or that arrogant Norman, who will taste the end of my blade very, very soon. You belong to me now, and you will never see Braemere again."
The door of the chapel opened and out stepped Audrey, Duncan's sister, a woman twice her age, who had always tolerated Aleysia, but no more.
"The Norman has been kind to us. He even let Adelstan go."
Aleysia felt him bristle beside her. "Did he now? You must have been a skillful lover for him to commit treason against his king." He ran a possessive hand over her hip, and finally her waist. "Smile now, Aleysia," he said, squeezing her hand painfully. "Let others believe you are happy to become my wife. Audrey will help you prepare for the wedding. I am off to see to my men." Without a backward glance, he left her.
"Are you hungry?" Audrey asked, taking Aleysia by the hand, her fingers ice cold.
"Aye, I am." Her face ached where he had slapped her, and she tasted blood.
"There is a hut on the other side of the chapel. It is where you will prepare for the wedding, and where you will spend the evening. In the morrow we will head for Kilraney. I expect you are ready to go home?"
Aleysia nodded. Apparently, Duncan had not told his sister everything.
The hut was very small, and housed little more than a bed, and a fire pit, where a pot of stew boiled now.
Aleysia glanced at the bed and shuddered. Tonight Duncan would be her husband, and she would be forced to have sex with him. She had no desire to make love to anyone but Renaud. But he was in York, and by the time he discovered she was missing, she would already be married, and there would be nothing he could do.
Her throat grew tight and she blinked back tears.
Audrey set a bowl of stew before Aleysia. "My brother says that you have embraced the Norman ways."
With cheeks blazing under the older woman's stare, Aleysia replied, "I have not embraced so much as I have accepted that King William is in England to stay."
"And you prefer England to Scotland?"
"My home is in England."
"I thought you considered Kilraney your home?"
"I realized how much I missed Braemere when I returned."
Her lips quirked. "I heard rumors when the men returned, but I chose not to believe them. I cannot understand why you would love a Norman, particularly the man who imprisoned your brother."
Surprised by the woman's bold remark, Aleysia replied, "You should not listen to rumors. They know not of what they speak." She hoped Audrey could not see through the lie. "I have done what I must in order to stay alive."
"You gave yourself to this Norman?"
"I do not wish to speak of it."
Audrey's lips curved slightly. "I have heard he is a handsome man. It is little wonder you had no desire to leave."
Aleysia tasted the stew, wincing because of the cut on her lip. "I wanted Adelstan's freedom, and that was the price."
"Aye, but you gave your maidenhead willingly enough. He must have pleased you well for you not to want to leave." Audrey laughed under her breath. "I do believe that is why Duncan abducted you. He could not bear the thought of you in another man's bed. You, a possession he has coveted greatly."
The discussion made Aleysia's stomach churn, and though she no longer had an appetite, she ate, wanting the conversation to end.
"Once we are finished here, I will take you to bathe in the river just beyond the forest."
Aleysia's heart skipped a beat. Mayhap she would be able to escape! "I look forward to washing away the dust."
She finished the stew in recor
d time and looked up to find Audrey standing by the door, drying towels and soap in hand. "Come, let us get you washed while we still have sunlight. You will smell fresh as a rose for your husband."
Aleysia forced a smile and followed her out the door.
Duncan was nowhere in sight, but two of his men appeared out of nowhere and followed close behind them.
"Must they come?" Aleysia glanced over her shoulder at the burly man who made her skin crawl.
"Duncan would have their heads if they failed to keep you safe."
"Certainly, I am not going to flee when I am naked. I would freeze to death."
'"Tis true. Mayhap they can fall back a ways. Enough to give you some privacy."
"Thank you, Audrey." Aleysia hoped she sounded sincere. As the forest closed in around them, she prayed for a miracle.
Renaud crested the final hill, and inhaled a deep, steadying breath as he took in the sight below.
He smiled. Braemere in all her glory.
It had been less than a month since he had first set eyes on the impressive fief, and he would never forget her beauty. Much as the beauty within.
Every part of him ached for Aleysia, and had since he'd left Braemere a week ago. To see her face, to hear her voice.
Though he had lost this beautiful fief, he prayed he had not lost the woman he loved. Aye, and love her he did. He would do everything he could to regain William's favor.
He nudged his mount into a gallop, anxious to see the woman whose green eyes had haunted him so much these past days.
As he approached the gatehouse he heard Galeran's voice, shouting orders.
Unease rippled along his spine. Something was amiss.
The portcullis opened and Galeran rode out, two dozen men behind him, all dressed in armor.
Galeran, clearly surprised to see him, approached. "My lord, I fear I have bad news. MacMillan has taken Aleysia."
Anger and fear surged within him. "When?"
"Two hours ago. He killed six guards. I am sorry, my lord. I do not know how they managed to sneak inside the keep without being spotted."
Renaud turned to his squire. "Bring me a fresh mount."
The boy nodded, and raced for the bailey.
