Claire Delacroix (59 page)

Burke sighed. “And so I left, as I believed you had bidden me to do.” He lifted his gaze to Alys and his eyes seemed to glow with his intensity. “ ’Twas my first mistake. I should have insisted that I be granted such a rejection from your own lips.”

Alys did not know what to believe. Indeed, her troublesome heart urged her to take Burke’s side.

“I returned to my father and rode in battle with him,” that man continued, “enduring at each turn the matches my mother would have me make. But ’twas odd, Alys, for I could not help but compare each of these women with you—and each time I found them lacking. To my dismay, time did naught to erase your allure. I awakened thinking of you at the oddest times. Gradually I realized that what burned in my heart for you might never fade.”

Burke paused and frowned, his voice dropping low. “And so a year after my departure I returned to Kiltorren in the hope that I might persuade you to accept my suit.”

Now, that
was
a lie!

“You did not!” Alys declared, angry that he would toy with her thus, and more angered that she could be so readily deceived.

Burke’s gaze locked with hers. “I
did,
Alys. I was here that spring, but you were not.”

“ ’Tis impossible! I told you that I was born at Kiltorren and have always lived within these walls.”

“You were not here,” Burke insisted grimly. “Your aunt declared that you had fled the keep, that they knew not where you had gone. Your family expressed great concern and begged that I send them word if ever I caught a glimpse of you.”

He arched a brow as though dubious of what he would say. “It seemed they were sick with worry.”

“But that makes no sense at all!” Alys protested. “I have never left Kiltorren.”

“Then where were you, Alys?” Burke demanded. He flung out his hands in frustration. “I do not lie to you, I
was here.
”

“But I would have known if you were here. I would have seen you!”

Burke shook his head. “I do not know the solution to the riddle, Alys. I know only what I saw and what I was told. I did not see you here, and so I left, hoping at least I might find you in my travels.”

He swallowed and kicked his toe against the deadened straw. “And that was my second mistake, for I never did lay eyes upon you before returning to Kiltorren this time.”

Alys shook her head in exasperation. “Clearly, because I was here all the while!” She propped her hands on her hips to survey him. “What do you intend to gain by lies when I grant you the opportunity to share the truth?”

Burke’s glance was steady. “Alys, it seems we both have been served with lies at Kiltorren, and not from each other.”

He appeared so convinced of this that Alys paused to wonder. ’Twas not really startling to imagine Aunt lying to her.

Alys frowned. “But Aunt would have told me of any proposal, I am certain.”

“Would she have?” Burke mused. “She was quick to tell a tale of your illness last evening.”

“Oh, ’tis not because of any faith in her honesty that I defend her.” Alys folded her arms across her chest and smiled
wryly. “She would be only too glad to be rid of the burden of my presence, you may be certain.”

“Indeed?” Burke did not seem to think this as much of a certainty as Alys did. His glance danced over her garb, and Alys realized that she must be filthy beyond all. “They have had a healthy measure of toil from you, there can be no doubt of that.”

“I have been told that I must earn my keep.”

Burke’s eyes flashed. “As your cousins do?”

Alys bit her lip and eyed the knight warily. Though she had had mutinous thoughts all her life, ’twas awkward to discuss them so openly with another. “I suppose ’tis only natural that my aunt and uncle favor their own blood.”

“You
are
their own blood!” Burke cried. He paced the width of the stall in obvious frustration. “You are of the same lineage as your cousins.” He appealed to her with a glance and an outstretched hand. “Have you never asked yourself why their lives differ so much from your own?”

“Aye,” Alys admitted uneasily. “Aunt says she did not wish me to become proud, as my mother was.”

Burke snorted a disdain that could not be misconstrued. “Your aunt is well aware that you are the loveliest of the three young women in her care,” he declared flatly. Alys’s heart fluttered at the compliment stated as bald fact. “She is concerned for her own, ’tis true, but at your expense.”

But there was another factor, one that Burke did not understand and one far more critical.

“Nay, we are not equal, for I am bastard-born.” Alys felt her cheeks heat as she admitted to this. “My mother brought shame upon Kiltorren and her father’s name. Aunt would not see me repeat my mother’s error.”

But Burke folded his arms across his chest, clearly not giving this morsel of information the due it deserved. “Alys, the noble blood of this house runs in your veins, regardless of
how you came to be in this world. Kings and queens acknowledge their spawn from the wrong side of the linens, and Kiltorren is no king’s prize. Your mother may have erred, but her moral debts are not yours to pay.”

“But Aunt says I carry the whore’s taint.”

Burke swore and spat in the straw, his condemnation of such thinking more than clear. “Alys! Ask yourself what your aunt wins by so abusing you!” He tapped his thumb, counting off his points. “She sets her own daughters at advantage, for they are never compared to you while you wear a servant’s garb.”

Burke marked his index finger. “She has a maid without the need to train or compensate or see to the marriage of that maid. Indeed, I have no doubt you serve all three of them.” He counted off another finger, not granting Alys the opportunity to acknowledge that truth. “She has another pair of hands in the kitchen with no additional mouth to feed, which is no small thing if the keep does not prosper.”

He stepped closer, tapping his third finger heavily with his opposite index finger. “But there is another reason, of that I am certain, for such bitterness cannot be without a root.”

“There is my taint …”

“There is no such thing as this whore’s taint!”

“But Aunt insists …”

“She
lies
!” the knight declared savagely. “Your aunt takes exception in your very existence, Alys, regardless of what you do or say. I mean to discover why.”

Alys frowned and looked away, fighting against Burke’s persuasiveness. Oh, she knew he spoke the truth about Aunt’s malice, but what of the rest?

Burke stepped forward in that moment and caught Alys’s chin between his finger and thumb, forcing her to meet his gaze. She was achingly aware of his hand braced against the stall beside her shoulder, of the scent of his skin, of the glow
in his eyes, the light touch of his finger and thumb on her chin. Her heart pounded at the awareness that she alone held his attention, that she alone was what he desired.

She could not have stepped away to save her soul.

“If all truly was as I tell you, Alys,” Burke whispered, his gaze searching hers, “would you have put your hand in mine three years past?”

Alys swallowed at the very possibility. She could not imagine that Burke could feign such intensity, and in this moment, she could not credit any possibility that he lied.

Indeed, she wanted to plead with him to take her away from Kiltorren, under any terms. Alys wanted once again to have the dream of Burke being her knight, her lover, her Aucassin.

But Alys had pledged never to repeat her mother’s error, the error at the root of all her troubles. And Burke said naught of marriage in these days, even if once he did.

Alys realized the omission in time. Indeed, ’twas clear—despite Burke’s claim—that he came to court Malvina.

“But what if ’tis
not
true?” she whispered unevenly.

Burke caught Alys’s hand before she could step away and placed her palm over his heart, his own hand holding hers firmly there. His flesh was warm, even through his chemise, and his pulse pounded beneath her hand. His hand engulfed hers and Alys was seized by a longing for more of his touch so intense that it weakened her knees.

“But, Alys, ’tis the truth.”

“What about Malvina?”

Burke grimaced. “Alys, I see only you.” His gaze bored into hers and his voice dropped to a persuasive whisper. “I swear it.”

When Alys hesitated, Burke bent and brushed his lips across hers. She might have pulled away, but his heartbeat leapt beneath her fingertips.

Alys was beguiled by this small sign that her touch was not
without effect upon this bold knight. She stared up at him and could only watch as he bent to touch his lips to hers once more. And she trembled with desire when his lips closed over hers. He tasted of warmth and the ale with which he had broken his fast. He was warm and gentle as always he had been.

Alys added “irresistible” to her list of this knight’s traits just as her eyes closed. Her lips parted and she stretched to her toes, surrendering to the moment and his embrace.

Burke groaned and caught Alys against him, his hands gripping her waist with a surety that made her forget all her objections. His kiss was tender and thorough, his touch making Alys’s pulse leap in turn. Alys opened her mouth to him and arched against him, hungry for all he could give.

When his strong fingers eased beneath her chemise and cradled her breast, Alys caught her breath. Burke slid his thumb leisurely across her nipple, the move sending shivers through her from head to toe. He broke their kiss when she gasped, winked, then bent, cupping her breast to lift it to his lips.

And Alys, staring at the ebony tangle of his hair, flooded with the pleasure of his teasing lips, abruptly realized the folly of what she did. The measure of a man was in his deeds, not his fine words, nor even his kisses.

“Nay!” she cried, and pushed him away, noting only the astonishment in his eyes before she fled.

“Alys!” Burke called, but Alys did not look back. She picked up her skirts and ran, as much from Burke as from her own wanton urges.

Oh, she was her mother’s daughter, there could be no doubt of that!

“Alys!” Burke roared, his shout echoing over the bailey. “This matter is not done between us!”

Alys could not risk halting to listen to more of his persuasive tales. She fled for sanctuary, her heart fluttering like a wild thing seeking to escape her chest.

Yet when she had nearly reached the kitchen portal, Alys realized that Dame Fortune had not smiled upon her this morn.

Aunt stood there, her murderous expression making Alys’s footsteps falter. “You have been in his company again,” she charged.

Alys halted but could not lie. “Aye. Just this once.” Dread uncoiled in her belly when Aunt’s eyes narrowed. “ ’Twill be the last time, I swear it to you.”

Aunt’s brows rose. “Disobedience is disobedience, Alys, be it once or a thousand times.”

Alys glanced back to the stables occupied by a knight she did not dare to trust. There was no sign of him.

And there was no one else in this keep who would aid her, for any price, at least not any longer. Indeed, she would not ask it of any, after what had happened before.

But that would not happen again. Alys forced her breathing to steady, looked to Aunt, and decided that she could bear another dose of hard labor.

She stepped forward, her chin held high, not guessing that she had sorely underestimated her aunt’s wrath.

Cedric was waiting in the solar when Deirdre returned from the kitchen just before midday. He had that anxious demeanor that foretold his wanting something of her. Deirdre took pleasure in denying him her immediate attention, knowing ’twould trouble him all the more.

If naught else, she had swung that willow switch with vigor this morn. There were a pair of new blisters on her palm, one broken at the force of the beating she had given her niece. But her hand would not have gone soft if she had not laid the switch aside two years past.

’Twas the price Deirdre must pay for bowing to Cedric’s superstitious nonsense.

As that last time, Alys had not made a murmur of protest, she had not cried out, she had not wept, she had endured with the will of a martyr. ’Twas infuriating beyond anything else the girl might have done. Deirdre had momentarily forgotten herself in her quest for a response, hence the blisters.

But her hand would heal.

As, undoubtedly, would Alys.

One matter was assured—Alys would not be drawing Burke’s eye away from Malvina in the next few days. Deirdre smiled. ’Twas all the time Malvina would need to capture their guest’s heart. A pair of blisters was a small price to pay to ensure her eldest’s match.

Cedric folded his arms across his chest and eyed her warily. “Where have you been?” he asked.

“In the kitchen,” she said breezily, and opened her trunk. “Are the girls arrayed in their finest? I would have them sparkle in this knight’s presence.”

“Aye, they are.” Cedric took a step closer, his brow furrowing. “What detained you, Deirdre? ’Tis unlike you to be late to the board when we have a guest, no less an eligible knight.”

Deirdre smiled tightly. “Cedric, you would not have the fare be any less than our best, would you?”