Jenna Jaxon - Time Enough to Love 03 (14 page)

BOOK: Jenna Jaxon - Time Enough to Love 03
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She seemed not to have moved as she slept, except that the frown lines about her brows had smoothed out. Her beautiful face, pale and serene in the late morning light, had lost its pained expression. He placed a tentative hand on her bare shoulder.

Cold
.

“Oh, Alyse, no.” His body clenched, as if to ward off a blow. But it had already landed. Numb, he lay back in the bed.

She is gone. Dear God, you have taken my life
. Pain ripped through him, a white hot sword that laid his heart open.
Then you must take me as well.

This had always been his plan if Alyse did not survive, though he had tried to hide it from her as best he could. He would end it now, here, beside his beloved wife. Where he belonged.

He rose from the bed. Where had he put the damned knife? Ah, there, beneath a napkin. The blade scraped the table as he snatched it up. Without thought, he raised it to his breast, resting the point on his chest, just above where he believed his heart to be. A drop of blood welled where the blade pricked. ’Twas good ’twas sharp. ’Twould be quick. His heart lay shattered. What more hurt could it sustain?

He glanced at the still figure on the bed. He crossed to
it and leaned over the beautiful face, smoothing back a dark lock that had fallen against her forehead.

“I am coming with you,
sweetheart,” he whispered. He pressed his warm lips to the cool softness of her mouth for the last time. Then he broke the kiss and stood up. When the knife rested again on his chest, he squeezed his eyes shut and pushed the blade until it pricked the skin. “For you, beloved.”

“Geoffrey?”

The knife clattered to the floor. He opened his eyes to find Alyse staring at him, wide-eyed. “Alyse. Oh, Christ.” He fell to his knees, embracing her despite the covers that cocooned her. “Oh, Alyse. My love, you were so cold, I thought you were dead.”

“My fever must have broken during the night.” She smiled
, and the world turned bright. “And I am cold. Would you happen to have a remedy to hand for such a dilemma?”

He needed no other invitation. He vaulted over her into the bed, scrambled beneath the covers
, and pulled her body against his.

“Ouch.” She shrugged her arm
, and he released her shoulder. “I doubt I shall ever trust you with a knife again.” She kissed his bare shoulder. “You never intended to ride out if I died, did you?”

“What would have been the use of living without you, Alyse?” He shifted carefully until he could see her eyes. “You are my life. My heart beats only for you. An you were dead,
’twould be the cruelest of punishments to make me live on.”

She sighed and nestled closer. “Aye, I do ken that, Geoffrey. Neither could I bear the thought of living on an you were to die. Promise me we will be together always.”

“Not even death will part us, my love. You have my oath on that.” Pray God ’twould be a lifetime from now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 15

 

“I fear we must make our camp here tonight, Alyse,” Geoffrey called as he rode into a clearing to the right of the road. “We will not make Laval before the sun sets, and there will be no moon tonight.”

Alyse glanced around the
exposed area. Not her first choice for their encampment. They had been extremely fortunate thus far in their travels, for they had either found accommodations in villages or made camp in abandoned stables for the past nine nights. The thought of sleeping out in the open did not appeal to her in the least.

“We will be very exposed, Geoffrey. Are you sure we will be safe?”

Three weeks after her fever had broken, Alyse had recovered enough strength to sit a horse more than an hour or two a day. Geoffrey had insisted they wait to leave until she could ride rather than take a carriage that would move too slowly and elicit too much interest from those they passed on the road.

Lawlessness gripped the countryside, as Geoffrey had discovered while bargaining for goods in Loremo. A gang of ragtag peasants had set upon him as he returned to the manor house. He managed to fend them off with little harm to himself, although two of the ruffians lay dead in the road as the others scattered. The encounter had sobered him
, and he insisted she be completely well before they struck out for Beaulieu, a journey of almost three weeks, in an effort to contact her family.

The thought of them facing her father together, however, terrified Alyse as much as
the vagabonds . According to Church law, the ceremony they had performed in the princess’s chapel bound them in holy matrimony as surely as if they had spoken their vows before Pope Clement himself. Unhappily, without witnesses or a priest’s blessing, they had only their word that the ceremony had taken place.

They had ridden to the monastery at
Montclair the day before they left Loremo, hoping the brothers would marry them. But they had found no sign of the monks and assumed they had been called away to other duties for their order. That left the problem of their marriage unresolved, for Geoffrey refused to venture near large towns lest either the plague or lawlessness overtake them. He kept reassuring her that as soon as they found a town that seemed safe, they would enter it and be wed properly.

As a result, they were now almost halfway through their journey, for they had made good time in the crisp October air. Today they had ridden through thickly wooded countryside where leaves of riotous color surrounded them, often swirling around the horses’ feet or catching on their cloaks in startling patches of gold, orange, and red. The lowering sun glinted through the trees to the west when Geoffrey had reigned in Saracen.

“’Twill be fine, my love. There is a stream yonder, and the trees on the far side of the clearing will provide some shelter for us. We will be fine.” Geoffrey dismounted and gathered the reins to lead Saracen and Falcon to the water.

Alyse slid to the ground, grabbed the packs from
Mirabelle’s back, and relinquished her to him as well. She had insisted on bringing Falcon with them as assurance against a mishap on the road. Also because she could not bear the thought of Thomas’s horse being sold or bartered, as they had done with the horses that had remained at the manor. And, she had argued, three horses could be the beginnings of a stable when they returned to England, for God only knew what they would find when they arrived at Longford Manor.

As Geoffrey saw to the horses’ needs, Alyse laid out the bedroll and blankets, made the fire, and spread their meager dinner on the pallet. When Geoffrey
brought a skin of fresh water, they sat together, as had become their custom, to watch the sun go down and eat their meal of cheese, bread, and salt beef.

“Stop leering at me, my lord.” Alyse grinned at him then took a piece of bread and tore it into small bits. She nibbled the crust of one and drank some ale.

“You are too fetching in that outfit for me to do anything else, love.” Geoffrey’s gaze strayed from her breasts to her legs. She had insisted on wearing Thomas’s altered suit of clothes for comfort during the long days of riding, and for the protection it afforded her as a disguise. Even though it hid all her womanly curves, it had proven to be a great distraction for her husband.

“You are not eating, Alyse.” Not enough of a distraction. “What is amiss, my love?” Geoffrey finished his cheese
and nodded toward the pile of food still before her.

“’Tis nothing. I am just overtired tonight.” She packed the food
away quickly so he would not see how much she had actually eaten.

“But you ate nothing this morning either, sweetheart.”

“I ate a goodly bit at noon though.”

Geoffrey frowned. “You ate some bread and cheese. And not much of that.” He peered sharply at her. “Mayhap we are pressing too hard. The long days in the saddle are too tiring for you after your illness.” He drew her into his arms. “You must keep up your strength, love. You must eat more than bread and cheese. When we come to
Laval tomorrow, we will stop and find a hot meal for us. Chicken, and fresh bread, and a nice thick pudding perhaps.”

Alyse swallowed hard at the thought of such food
, praying her stomach would settle. “That sounds wonderful, Geoffrey. After a long sleep, I am sure I will be hungry. I am just so very tired now.” She removed her shoes and lay back on the pallet as Geoffrey stoked the fire.

He turned toward her and smiled
—a slow smile that made her heart melt. He spread their cloaks over them then lay down beside her. A thousand stars had suddenly appeared in the inky night sky as the sun retreated around the rim of the Earth. The rustling leaves, the subtle rush of the stream, the soft stamping of the horses as they moved about cropping grass soothed her. She closed her eyes, the aches and weariness seeping from her.

Geoffrey took her hand and placed a soft kiss on the palm.
“I wonder what it would be like to love you under the stars?” he whispered, nuzzling her neck.

Half asleep
, she stretched her neck out, expecting more caresses. “It is an extraordinary experience. There is nothing quite like it,” she murmured, turning toward him, smiling sleepily into his face.

“How do you know that?” His soft voice carried a dangerous
note.

Alyse snapped awake, sleep fled. And from nowhere his words from long ago rose to taunt her.
Truthfulness could be a two-edged sword in marriage if wielded with too much vigor.
But the words were already out; she could not call them back. She took a deep breath. “Thomas and I…dallied thus under the stars once.”

Geoffrey sat up, looming over her. “When was this? On the road to
Portsmouth?” The flickering red and gold firelight brought out the deeply etched lines in his face. His dark eyes glittered coldly.

Alyse shook her head
and avoided his gaze. “The night you helped smuggle me up on the deck of the
Phillipa
.”

“By God’s death!” Geoffrey
swore, the curse vehement enough to startle the horses. “Thomas had a wild streak in him, aye. He loved to flaunt convention, but to force you…his wife…to…to…in a public place. Anyone could have seen you.”

“No, Geoffrey.” She raised her head so she could meet his eyes. She would bare the whole tale, for she would not let him malign Thomas. “’Twas not that way at all.
’Twas my idea.”

He froze then bolted from the pallet. “You lie to protect him.”

“Hah.” She sat up. “Had I chosen to lie, Geoffrey, I would simply have said I misspoke. That I supposed loving someone under the stars was unforgettable. No, the truth is that I made Thomas take me up on deck as part of a wager. Once there, I wanted more. So I asked him to take me under the stars. He did not want to do it, but I persuaded him.”

Geoffrey frowned and cocked his head. “In God’s name
, why? Did you not know the consequences if you were caught?”

“Oh, Thomas made sure I knew what would happen. I told you, he tried to dissuade me.”
Geoffrey would never understand why she had wanted that experience. Part had been the exhilaration of freedom. But even more had been her sudden desire for Thomas. “
I
wanted to, Geoffrey. We had been cooped up in that cabin for five days. I wanted to smell the sea, to taste the salt in the air. I wanted…an adventure. Something to remember when I was old, something to tell my grandchildren and scandalize them. Most of all I wanted…to take control of my life for once.”

She straightened and raised her chin. “In less than two months
, I had been given in marriage to one man, had that man taken from me, forced to wed another, confined to my chamber, and all but lost my standing in the court. Is there any wonder I wanted to be the one forcing someone to do my bidding?”

Geoffrey strode away then turned back to face her. “He took my place in your life. There is little left that I was the first to share with you.”

“That is not true, Geoffrey.” Her voice sharpened. ’Twas a ridiculous thing to say. “You were the first man to share a kiss with me. The first man to take me to his bed. You were the first man I loved with all my heart. Are these things of little consequence to you?” She reached out her hand to him, hoping to draw him to her. But he waved it off, a gesture that struck to her heart.

Wearily
, she lay down with her back to Geoffrey, pulling the cloak around her shoulders, trying to muffle the cries escaping her throat. A mistake, for the choking sobs made her stomach start to roll. “Oh God!” She lurched from the pallet and began to heave.

Geoffrey was beside her in a moment, down on his knees, holding her head, murmuring
soothing words, supporting her until the spasm passed. He picked her up and carried her to the pallet, putting her down gently and drawing the cloak snugly around her. He found the water skin and bid her rinse her mouth. She shook all over as he crawled beneath the cloaks and sought to warm her with his body.

“My love
, you must tell me what is wrong.” The gentle Geoffrey had returned, his voice comforting as he chaffed her cold hands. “If you are ill, we will seek out a surgeon in Laval tomorrow. But something is not right. Can you not tell me?”

Alyse, her eyes squeezed closed, shook her head.

His body suddenly went rigid. “Has the pestilence returned, Alyse?”

“No,” she whispered.

Geoffrey’s body slumped, but he prodded again. “Do you know what is wrong, Alyse?”

A slow nod. Oh, but she dreaded
what she was about to say.

“Then you can tell me, sweetheart. I
beg pardon for what I said about Thomas, if that has distressed you. You are more important to me than anything else in the world. So you must let me know what is wrong.”

She struggled to sit up
, despite the cold. Geoffrey helped her and immediately put his arms around her, trying to keep her warm, but she shrugged away and turned to face him. She raised her hand to caress his cheek and said simply, “I believe I am with child, my lord.”

His mouth dropped open
, and he could only stare at her in the dying firelight.

“Oh, Alyse. My love.” He gently gathered her into his arms. “Why were you afraid to
give me this news? Because we are not yet properly wed? But it makes no difference, sweetheart. We will be married long ere the babe arrives.”

Alyse shook her head as it lay against his chest. Why must her life ever
be fraught with difficulty? “Nay, Geoffrey. ’Tis not that that troubles me.”

“Then what, sweetheart?” He cradled her head and stroked her back. “Did you think I would not be pleased at this news? That you are to bear my child?”

Alyse shook her head. Weariness pressed her down. “Do you remember when we danced at the princess’s banquet in Bordeaux?”

“Aye, my love.” He
clutched her to him, stroking her hair.

“That day I had started my courses.” He nodded. “That was the last time I had them. In August.”

His body went rigid, as though turned to stone. He grasped her shoulders and pushed her away until he could look at her. A deep frown coupled with eyes that pierced her soul and the harsh set of his mouth made his face that of a stranger. “That was before Thomas died.” She nodded. “So you may be…”

“I know not for certain, but
, aye, it may be that I carry Thomas’s child.” She dropped her gaze, no longer able to bear the look of betrayal in his eyes.

“Do you hope it is Thomas’s?”

She sobbed, for this question had tormented her ever since she began to suspect she was with child. “I know not what to hope for, Geoffrey.” The stony silence cut her like a knife. She had known he would take the news ill. ’Twas why she had hidden it as long as she could. Mayhap she could reason with him.

“This child is the only hope that some part of Thomas is still alive. He has no other heir
. If this child is yours, Thomas and the Knowlton line are dead. As much as I would love to think that I bear your son, there is part of me that prays it is Thomas’s I bear instead.”

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