Betrayal (Book 2: Time Enough to Love) (8 page)

A daunting task, with memories of Geoffrey fresh in her mind.

He had never been one for a chaste life, so the next weeks could prove trying indeed if Alyse continued to remain untouchable. There was no hope of a liaison here in
Sussex, where the lord of the manor was well-known. When they boarded the ship, the prospects would be even bleaker for a dalliance, should he wish to pursue one.

Another furtive look at Alyse, scarcely an arm’s length away, then he groaned and turned away from her. That way lay madness. He would keep his vow not to force her; ’twas not only a matter of honor that she come willingly to him, but one of her trust in him as well.

So now he needed to entice her, make her burn for his touch. Thomas smiled in the dark. Such persuasions had ever been his forte. Unfailing charm, a biting wit, a freedom to play, subtle kisses, and unexpected caresses were his weapons in this war. Weapons he had always wielded well.

Even the king’s gift had worked to his advantage, for it had carried the added boon of allowing the talent within his hands to be demonstrated. What better way to introduce her to an intimate touch? And where might it lead? The feel of her skin had certainly produced the desired reaction in him.

Amid thoughts of her silky flesh under his hands came the realization that he had turned toward her and even now reached out to stroke the gentle swell of her breast.

He cursed and abruptly turned over. Cold baths would be on order while they remained in the Keep.

Alyse swam up from slumber toward the awareness that a cocoon of warmth encased her.

Were the bedclothes tangled around her?

She struggled to open her eyes, to find herself locked in the embrace of her still-sleeping husband, her head pillowed familiarly on his shoulder. A further look at the broad chest, a mere inch from her face, convinced her that Thomas had dispensed with his shirt last night.

Her heart flipped. Had he come to bed thinking they would—

He shifted, and his naked flesh pressed against the length of her lower body. Skin to skin. Lord, was she naked as well? Scarcely wanting to peek, she glanced down and sighed in relief at the sight of her shift. It had likely ridden up during the night. At least one of them remained decently clothed. But she could not remember when she had donned the garment.

She did recall, very well, his attentions of the night before. She could admit now they had been wonderful beyond belief.

Did he even finish?

After he had started kneading her shoulders, she had slipped away into the blissful fog of sleep.

So how did she get into her shift? She had lain down on the bed with the drying cloth wrapped around her...

She moaned softly at the sudden image of Thomas unwinding the sheet and dressing her in the shift. Not a memory, but the sole conclusion left to draw.

Alyse quickly focused on his face—too near by half—but her moan had not awakened him. Now, how to get out of this position before more trouble ensued?

Her husband’s actions last night had confused her mightily. Her trust and esteem for him, which had been riding high, had plunged to a new low with their battle. He had revealed a stubborn nature she had suspected, although not to this degree. How long before he would insist on his marital rights? Would he indeed keep his promise? Or would he take this opportunity, lying next to her between the sheets, naked as the day he was born, to ravish her as soon as he woke? She would have something to say about that.

Keeping her attention on his face, she slowly stretched a leg, tentatively moving it away from his body. The soreness of yesterday had passed. Perhaps she would be gracious and thank him, provided she could do so from the far side of the room.

She inched the second leg toward the edge of the bed. If she could manage to slide over…

Even as she thought it, she found herself in the immovable steel cage of his arms, his eyes twinkling warm and brown and not two inches from her.

“Good morning, sweet.” He pulled her even closer, nestling her body against the sleek, hard muscles of his chest.

Alyse let herself relax—fighting would do no good at all. “Good morning, my lord.”

“Were you trying to fly away so soon, little dove? ’Tis a morning made for lazing in bed. Indeed, the sun is scarce up. We should rest here yet a little.” He took advantage of their position, kissing her hair, before moving down in the bed so that their faces almost touched.

“Are your legs better this morning?” Clasping her face between his hands, he searched it for an honest answer.

Not the question she had expected, but she smiled in response. “Aye, Thomas. They do feel much better. When I stretched them there was hardly a twinge.” She ducked her head, avoiding his eyes. “Thank you for attending to my hurts last night. You were right. I should not have protested.” Hesitantly, she slid one hand up to stroke his cheek.

He raised her head again and drew her face toward him. Their mouths pressed together, he licked slowly, lightly along the seam of her lips. He turned her head until their lips fit perfectly together.

She relaxed, and he slid his tongue forward, tasting, testing, touching everything in her mouth. Warmth surged through her body as ripples of pleasure ran unbidden into her belly. Desire grew as her body heated in response to his touch.

Thomas broke the kiss and pulled back. “You are welcome, sweet Alyse. Anything I can do to give you comfort or pleasure, you must let me know.” She caught that twinkle in his eye and suddenly became aware of his state of complete undress.

Part of her wanted to pull him back into the kiss and continue it to its inevitable conclusion. But the voice of reason overruled her.

Do not start what you do not intend to finish.

The voice was right. Although the embers of desire flickered for Thomas now, last night she had wept over Geoffrey Longford. As long as that dear knight occupied her thoughts so closely, she could not lie with another man.

Alyse smiled sweetly and pulled the sheet up to her chin. “Could we have breakfast now? I fear I slept through supper last night. I am famished.”

His eyes took on a smoky quality, the golden brown deepening almost to black as he ran a finger over her lips. “And what are you hungry for, my sweet?”

Low and sensual, he spoke as though trying to inflame her with the very sound. He himself seemed ready to combust, so intently did he stare at her. Caught off guard by the intensity of desire in his voice, she shifted in his arms, a sudden rush of heat flowing through her veins. What was he doing to her?

Uncertain how to distract him from his obvious goal, she strove to reply lightly. “I am sure whatever they have in the kitchen will be fine.” Her words emerged rather higher pitched than normal, drawing a laugh from her husband.

“Then I will send word to say we will be down directly.” He brushed a brief kiss over her lips and left the bed to don his clothes, giving her a clear look at the well-muscled back and wonderfully taut buttocks.

Oh yes, she remembered those.

Her sharp intake of breath must have reminded him of his nakedness, for he turned his head to her. “Look your fill, my sweet. Turnabout is fair play.”

The silence grew while she reasoned out his words. Then her squeal rent the air. “Thomas! You did not!”

Clad in nothing save his braies and hose, he turned to face her. “You are quite beautiful, Alyse. All of you, I might add.” He looked hungrily at her. “I am a man who has had the pleasure of seeing many women in his life, and I must confess, you are one of the loveliest. You should not be ashamed to take such a compliment from your husband.” He winked at her. “Of course, your husband is the
only
one who will give you such compliments from now on.” He continued his leisurely dressing.

“I could say the same thing for you, my dear.” Her words seemed to catch him by surprise, as she had intended, for his brows rose. She sensed his question and hurried to make sure he understood. “That you too are quite beautiful.” Then a devilish idea took root. “Unfortunately, I have little experience of other men to judge you by, which makes my judgment worth much less.” She pretended to think, one finger propping up her cheek. “Unless, of course, you will allow me to gather some knowledge of other men’s bodies. If not, I fear I will have to remain a poor judge of you.”

Thomas’s head popped through his tunic as she uttered that sentiment. His startled expression sent Alyse into a fit of laughing. He began to stalk her, a roguish smile playing about his lips. “You want experience of other men’s bodies while you have little enough of your own husband’s? Come, sweet goose, let us become better acquainted.” He leaped for her as she shrieked and dove across the bed.

Laughing, she ran to the bathtub, trying to put as much distance between them as possible. “But, Thomas, you must admit ’tis sensible that I need more knowledge if I am to assess you properly as a man?” She continued to tease him, feinting around the left end of the tub then dodging back the other way.

To her astonishment, Thomas reached across the tub and simply lifted her over it and into his arms. “Shall we start your lessons now?”

He slid her down the entire length of him, until she stood breathless on the floor. Tracing his finger lightly down the curve of her cheek, he stared into her eyes. Then with his other hand, he firmly swatted her backside.

Alyse yelped, but he grinned. “Get dressed, wench. Lest it be noon ere we break our fast.” He strode from the chamber, leaving her to scramble into her clothes, more at ease with her husband than she would have guessed after last night.

After breakfast, Thomas suggested they tour the house and grounds, starting in the Great Hall where they had just dined. It was a large room with expensive tapestries covering each wall.

“These tapestries are marvelously fine.” She noted a variety of hunting scenes, illustrations from the Bible, and images from the Arthurian tales. “This hall is far richer than my home at Beaulieu, or Merwyck Castle, for that matter.”

“My mother enjoyed needlework, both her own and the masters on the continent.” He gazed fondly at a wall hanging depicting a deer hunt. “My father refused her nothing, so we ended up with tapestries on almost every wall of the Keep.”

The wall hangings were not the only luxuries. The rushes on the floor had been recently changed, the addition of rosemary sprigs giving a sweet smell to the room. Most amazing, the windows of the Great Hall had panes of glass. Her mouth gaped as she marveled at the display of wealth.

Thomas shook his head. “I told you he would deny her nothing.”

They continued to the second bedchamber, the one reserved for the eldest son. This had been his chamber while growing up.

Austere. Not like Thomas at all.

There were few pieces of furniture here: the large four-poster bed with curtains—similar to the one they had shared last night—a chest pushed under a window, a table, and two chairs. Good quality, but sparse. A single tapestry hung on one wall—a scene from the Bible. Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden.

“So this was your solar growing up?” Alyse frowned at the worn bedclothes. The single room in the castle without luxury.

“Aye. When my parents died five years ago, I moved into the master chamber where we stayed last night.”

Alyse shifted to examine the exquisite needlework, taking in the deep jewel colors and the devoted faces of Adam and Eve, surrounded by their family of animals. She turned to ask Thomas about the workmanship but stopped, her words arrested by the look on her husband’s face.

He stood rigidly at the end of the massive bed, one hand curved around the dark wooden bedpost. Harsh planes emerged around his mouth. He furrowed his brow as he stared at the bed, his eyes unfocused as though he could not see what was before him. Alyse waited, wondering what he was thinking, and decided it was probably not at all pleasant.

Thomas recalled himself abruptly and, without any explanation, drew Alyse out of the room and down the hall to peep into other, similar guest chambers.

Heading downstairs at last, he led her past the kitchen and its fragrant garden, ending up at the stable where Falcon and Mirabelle stood saddled and ready to ride.

“So that is Knowlton’s Keep, Lady Braeton. Now your humble home.” He grinned as he assisted her onto her mount. “For the next few days, at least. Are you ready for a short ride to the village? ’Twill stretch your muscles and get them used to riding again.”

Alyse smiled ruefully. “Aye, Thomas. I believe I can ride today, thanks to your tender care last night.”

With his help, she eased herself into the saddle, wincing at the sore muscles. Her backside hurt as if she had been beaten, though ’twas not unbearable. Thomas mounted Falcon, and they started out at a measured walk.

When they reached the village of Midhurst, Thomas dismounted and hitched the horses then reached up to help her from her horse. He grasped her about the waist and pulled her toward him. For a moment, she feared he would take advantage of her position, hold her closer than necessary. She was astonished, however, when he merely assisted her to the ground and offered his arm. A refreshing change from his earlier brazen behavior.

They spent the better part of the afternoon in the village, allowing Thomas to meet with as many tenants and shopkeepers as possible. Alyse duly accompanied him, the gravity of her position sinking in. Now the lady of the Keep, her responsibility loomed as great as her husband’s. These were her workers as well, and in order to be a good lady to them, she had to understand their needs. As they made the rounds, she resolved to learn as much about the people as she could and listened keenly to their conversation.

Even though she and Thomas would soon leave England, they would return. She hoped, if she comported herself well, she would be welcomed back whole-heartedly. To that end, she spoke encouragingly to the women of the village, asking about their families, their work in the fields or their shops. She was chatting with some of the women beside the village well, when the hairs on the back of her neck prickled. She turned to find Thomas staring at her, a lazy smile lighting his face. He nodded to her and continued his conversation with some of the elders.

On the ride home, they walked their horses in the bright sunshine of the late afternoon.

“You seemed well at ease with the people, Alyse. The elders remarked on my good sense to marry a lady both beautiful and gracious.” He chuckled and leaned over to grasp her hand. “I told them it was the will of God, and that my senses were so confounded by your beauty, I would have overlooked the ruby had He not intervened.”

Disconcerted by his words, Alyse ducked her head and tapped her heel to Mirabelle’s flank. The mare picked up the pace until she outdistanced Falcon. Thomas urged his mount to more speed and easily overtook her.