by Amanda Quick
Alice nodded in comprehension. “So no one wished to see the betrothal severed, is that it?”
“Aye.” Hugh glanced at her and then he looked into the dying coals on the brazier. “Least of all Matthew of Rivenhall. He had no intention of abandoning his fine heiress for my mother. But he did come to see her once after he returned from Normandy.”
“To tell her that he loved her and would love her always even though he must wed another?” Alice asked quickly.
Hugh’s mouth quirked upward at the corner in a humorless smile, “You seek to salvage a romantic ending for this tale?”
Alice blushed “I suppose I do. Is there one?”
“Nay.”
“Well, then? What did Matthew of Rivenhall say to your mother when he met with her and learned that he had a son?”
“No one knows.” Hugh took another swallow of wine. “But whatever it was, my mother apparently did not care for it. She murdered him and then took her own life. They were both found dead the following morning.”
Alice’s mouth fell open. It took her several tries before she could speak. When she did so, the words emerged as a squeak. “Your mother murdered your father?”
“So they say.”
“But how? If he was a great knight, how could she possibly manage to kill him? Surely he would have been able lo defend himself against a woman.”
Hugh looked at her with grim eyes. “She used a woman’s weapon.”
“Poison?”
“She put it in the wine she served to him that night.”
“Dear God.” Alice stared down into the red wine in her cup. For some reason she no longer had a taste for it. “And then she drank the wine herself?”
“Aye. Vincent’s father, Matthew’s younger brother, became the heir to the Rivenhall estates. He was killed three years ago. Vincent is now the lord of Rivenhall.”
“And he bears enmity toward you because he believes that your mother murdered his uncle?”
“He was taught to hate me from the cradle even though he became lord of Rivenhall because of my mother’s action. In truth, I was taught to return the favor.”
“Who had the rearing of you?”
“My grandfather for the first eight years of my life. When he died I was sent to live in the household of Erasmus of Thornewood. I was fortunate in that I did not become a foundling.”
“But you were denied your birthright,” Alice whispered.
“‘Tis true that I lost Rivenhall, but that part no longer matters so far as I’m concerned.” Hugh’s mouth twisted in cold satisfaction. “I have lands of my own now. My grandfather’s manor is mine, thanks to Sir Erasmus.”
She thought of how she had lost Benedict’s inheritance and swallowed a small sigh. “I am pleased for you, sir.”
Hugh seemed not to hear her. “Scarcliffe has suffered much since my grandfather’s death twenty-two years ago. In truth, it had fallen into decline even before he died. But I intend to make it plump and profitable once more.”
“A worthy goal.”
“Above all, I shall hold on to it for my heirs.” Hugh’s hand tightened around his cup. “By the blood of the devil, I vow that Vincent will not be able to do the same with Rivenhall.”
Alice tensed at the chilling tone of his voice. “Why is that?”
“Rivenhall Manor is in very poor condition these days. ‘Tis not at all the fine, prosperous land it once was. Why do you think Vincent enters every joust and tournament he can find? He is attempting to make enough money to save his lands.”
“What happened to them?”
“Vincent’s father was devoid of all sense of responsibility. He squandered the income from the Rivenhall estates to finance a trip to the Holy Land.”
“He went on Crusade?”
“Aye. And died in some distant desert as so many did, not from a Saracen’s blade, but from a foul disease of the bowel.”
Alice frowned. “I believe my mother wrote of the many illnesses that afflicted those who went on Crusade.”
Hugh set aside the empty wine cup. He rested his elbows on his knees and loosely clasped his hands. “They say Vincent’s father was born wild and reckless. He had no business sense and no notion of duty to his own family. There was a reason why his people were so devastated by the loss of my father, you see. Everyone knew that his brother would ruin the estates. And he very nearly succeeded. Unfortunately, he died before he could complete the task.”
“And now Sir Vincent is desperately seeking to save them.”
“Aye.”
“What a sad tale,” Alice said.
“I warned you it did not have a romantic ending.”
“True, you did.”
Hugh slanted her an odd glance. “In some ways ‘tis no more sad than your own tale.”
“What happened to me and my brother was my own fault,” Alice said grimly.
Hugh’s expression darkened. “Why do you say it was your fault? It was your uncle, Sir Ralf, who deprived Benedict of his inheritance.”
“He was able to do so only because I was unable to defend my father’s manor.” Alice rose restlessly and moved to stand closer to the dying brazier. “I did my best, but it was not good enough.”
“You are too hard on yourself.”
“I shall always wonder if there was something more I could have done. Mayhap I could have phrased my arguments to Lord Fulbert more cleverly. Or found a way to convince him that I could manage the defense of my brother’s lands until Benedict came of age.”
“Alice, hush. Your uncle no doubt meant to take your brother’s lands from you the moment he learned of your father’s death. And Fulbert was likely pleased to see him do so. There was nothing you could have done.”
“You don’t understand. My mother trusted me to protect Benedict’s inheritance. She said that in spite of what my father believed, Benedict would one day prove that he was a worthy heir.” Alice twisted her fingers together in front of her. “But I failed to give my brother his opportunity. I failed.”
Hugh got to his feet and crossed the carpet to stand directly behind her. Alice shivered as his powerful hands settled on her shoulders. She experienced an almost overpowering urge to throw herself into his arms again as she had done earlier that afternoon. It was all she could do to resist.
“Alice, you are possessed of a brave and bold spirit, but even the bravest and the boldest cannot win every battle.”
“I did everything I could but it was not enough. I felt so alone.” With a small cry, Alice spun around and buried her face against Hugh’s broad chest. Her tears flowed in silence, dampening the front of his black tunic. Her shoulders shuddered.
It was the first time she had cried since her mother had died.
Hugh said nothing. He simply held her. The candle burned lower and the shadows thickened within the tent.
The tears stopped eventually, leaving Alice drained. But to her surprise, she felt calmer, more at peace with herself than she had in some time.
“Forgive me, my lord,” she mumbled into his tunic. “I do not usually indulge myself in tears. I fear it’s been a long and somewhat trying day.”
“Aye, that it has.” Hugh tipped her chin up with the edge of his hand. He studied her face as though she were a mysterious volume he was determined to decipher. “And a most instructive one.”
She looked into his shadowed gaze and saw the pain as well as the iron-willed determination that pain had inspired in him. Those amber eyes held darker, fiercer, infinitely more dangerous versions of the pain and determination that had been etched into her own soul. Storm winds.
She longed to reach inside him and still the savage tempests but she did not know how to go about it.
And then, quite suddenly, Alice knew that she wanted Hugh to kiss her. She wanted it more than she had ever wanted anything in her entire life. In that moment she suspected that she would have cheerfully sold her soul for his kiss.
As if he could read her thoughts, Hugh bent hi
s head and covered her mouth with his own.
Alice nearly collapsed. Had Hugh not held her as securely as he did, she would have crumpled to the carpet.
The disturbing male energy in him poured into her, a force that was all the more awesome because of the control Hugh exerted over it. It revived Alice’s spirits the way a shower of rain renews wilted grass.
The excitement that had flashed through her the first time Hugh had kissed her returned in a heated rush. The sensation seemed stronger, more vibrant this time, as though her body had been tuned for it by the first embrace. The desire she felt radiating from Hugh set a torch to Alice’s senses.
She moaned softly and then something gave way inside her. The pain and defeat of the past were forgotten for the moment. The danger of the afternoon was a distant memory. The future was an unknown haze that did not seem to matter.
Nothing was of any import save this man who held her with a strength that simultaneously overwhelmed Alice and made her feel incredibly powerful.
Alice wrapped her arms around Hugh’s neck and held on for dear life.
“I chose well,” Hugh whispered.
Alice wanted to ask him what he meant by those odd words but she could not speak. The world shifted around her. She squeezed her eyes tightly closed as Hugh lifted her off her feet.
A moment later she felt the softness of the pallet blankets beneath her. She gasped as Hugh came down on top of her. His weight crushed her into the bedding. She felt his leg slide between her thighs and dimly realized that her skirts were hiked up above her knees. She knew she ought to have been horrified by that fact but for some reason she gloried in it.
Curiosity overcame good sense and modesty. The need to know where this aching, surging, swelling feeling inside her would ultimately lead was simply too strong to ignore. Surely she had a right to explore these exhilarating sensations.
“I never dreamed that it could be like this between a man and a woman,” she said against his throat.
“You have not yet experienced the half of it,” Hugh promised.
His mouth moved on hers, demanding, coaxing, claiming. Alice could do nothing but respond. She felt his hands on the laces of her gown but she paid no attention. She was too busy savoring the heat and scent of him. Then he touched her bare breast with a hand that was callused from years of gripping the hilt of a sword.
For an instant Alice could not breathe. She opened her mouth on a small shriek of amazement. No man had ever touched her in such an intimate manner.
It was thrilling.
It was immodest.
It was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her.
“Hush.” Hugh quickly covered her mouth with his own, swallowing the startled cry she made. “We are surrounded by my men and the encampments of others. A lover’s sweet cries will travel on the night air as though borne on wings.”
A lover’s sweet cries?
Alice opened her eyes abruptly. “By Saint Boniface’s cloak, my lord, you speak the truth. We must stop.”
“Nay.” Hugh raised his head slightly to look down at her. He drew his rough fingertip along the edge of her cheek as though he touched rare silk. “There is no need to stop. We must simply be cautious.”
“But, my lord—”
“And silent. Close your eyes, Alice. I will take care of everything.”
She sighed and closed her eyes, surrendering control of the moment in a way that she had never been able to do before in her life.
Suddenly she saw herself as apprenticed to an alchemist who knew the secret of transforming base metal into gold. She was on the brink of wondrous new discoveries.
She would study whole realms of natural philosophy that had heretofore been closed to her. She would learn strange truths that had been concealed so well that, until this moment, she had not even guessed at their existence.
Hugh gently took one nipple between thumb and forefinger. Alice shuddered with pleasure. He moved his palm downward until he found her bare leg. Alice flinched in reaction and then instinctively bent her knee.
Hugh slid his hand up along the inside of her thigh and Alice clutched at him so fiercely that she wondered she did not leave marks.
And all the while Hugh kept her mouth covered with his own, swallowing each telltale gasp as though it were a rare, honeyed wine.
When he touched the hot, wet place between her legs Alice thought she would go mad. She could barely breathe. Her whole body was inflamed as if with fever. There was a curious tightness within her that clamored to be eased.
“Silence,” Hugh said in a velvety whisper that teased and tormented as surely as his hand. “Not a word. Not a sound, my sweet.”
The knowledge that she could not even give voice to these astounding sensations only served to intensify them. Alice shivered again and again as Hugh stroked her.
He parted her carefully with his fingers. Alice sucked in her breath. A small, terribly urgent whimper escaped her.
“Have a care,” Hugh murmured against her mouth. “Remember that silence is all tonight.”
He eased one finger partway inside her and then withdrew it.
Alice wanted to scream. She grabbed his head and pulled his mouth more tightly against hers. She thought she heard him laugh softly in the darkness but she paid no heed.
He moved his hand one last time against her softness and the night exploded around her. Nothing mattered, not the knowledge that Hugh’s men might overhear her or the fact that there were encampments scattered all around the black tent.
Alice was utterly lost to the sensation that seized her. At that moment the only other person in the whole world so far as she was concerned was Hugh.
She thought she screamed but she heard no sound. She dimly understood that Hugh must have swallowed the cry, just as he had all the others.
“Blood of the angels …” Hugh’s arm tightened around her as she convulsed beneath him.
Alice barely heard him. She sighed deeply and floated gently down to earth. A lovely sense of contentment filled up all the empty places within her.
Dreamily she opened her eyes and looked up at Hugh. His face was set in startlingly rigid lines. His eyes glittered.
“My lord, that was—” Words failed her. “That was—”
“Aye?” He traced the outline of her mouth with one big, blunt finger. “What was it?”
“Most instructive,” Alice breathed.
Hugh blinked. “Instructive?”
“Aye, sir.” Alice stirred lazily. “An experience quite unlike anything else I have ever come across in my study of natural philosophy.”
“I’m glad you found it instructive,” he muttered. “Have you had other instruction of this sort?”
“Nay, my lord, this was quite unique.”
“Instructive and unique,” he repeated carefully. “Ah, well. I suspect that, given your unusual nature, I should be satisfied with that much.”
It dawned on her that he did not appear entirely pleased. She threaded her fingers through his black mane. “Have I offended you, my lord?”
“Nay.” He smiled faintly and shifted his position on top of her. “‘Tis just that I find making love to you instructive and unique also. I feel certain that we both have a great deal to learn.”
“Making love?” Alice froze. Her fingers tightened abruptly in Hugh’s hair. “Dear Saints. That is what we are doing, is it not?”
“Aye.” Hugh winced and reached up to gently unknot her fingers. “There is no need to pull out my hair in the process.”
“Oh, my apologies, my lord.” Alice struggled to rise. “I did not mean to injure you.”
“I appreciate that.”
“But we must stop this now, at once.” She shoved against his broad shoulders.
Hugh did not move. “Why?”
“Why?” She widened her eyes, astonished. “You ask me that?”
“It seems a reasonable question under the circumstances.”
“Sir, I m
ay not have had much personal experience with this sort of thing, but I am an educated woman. I am well aware of what must happen if we continue on as we are.”
“What of it?”
“You would be furious with yourself and with me if I allowed you to finish what you have started.”
“I would?”
“Of course you would.” She tried to wriggle out from under his heavy frame. “And knowing the sort of man you are, I am well aware that if you seduce me under such circumstances, you would feel honor-bound to go through with the marriage.”
“Alice—”
“I cannot allow it, sir. Indeed, I will not allow it.”
“You won’t?”
“We made a bargain, sir. I owe it to you to keep you from breaking it.”
Hugh braced himself on his elbows. “I promise you, I am in full control of my passion.”
“You may believe that to be true, sir, but ‘tis obvious you are not at all in control. Just look at yourself, my lord. If you were exerting your usual degree of self-mastery, you would have stopped several minutes ago.”
“Why?” he asked flatly.
“Because you would not wish to find yourself caught in a trap,” she snapped, thoroughly exasperated.
“Alice,” he said with ill-concealed impatience, “what if I told you that I am quite willing to go through with the marriage?”
“That’s impossible.”
“Give me one good reason why it’s impossible,” he growled.
She glared up at him. “I can think of a hundred but the most obvious is that I would make you a dreadful wife.”
Hugh stilled. Then, very slowly, he sat up beside her. “What in the name of the devil makes you say that?”
“I am not at all what you require in a wife, my lord.” Alice fumbled with her clothing. “We both know that.”
“Do we? I disagree. I do not think we both know that.” Hugh loomed over her. “In truth, I believe one of us is confused.”
“I know, my lord, but try not to become overanxious about it. You will soon come to your senses.”
“I am not the one who is confused, Alice.”
She eyed him warily. “You’re not?”
