Love Never Lies (21 page)

“If only we could be so lucky.” Dominic made a comical grimace as though he had just bitten down on a stalk of green rhubarb.
“Nay, my lady. ‘Tis our beloved father, and our not so beloved stepmother, who have darkened Highburn’s door.”

“But, if you’re to take this chamber, where am I to sleep?”

His apologetic smile warned her that his answer would be less than satisfactory. “I would have had you stay right here, but alas Alec doesn’t agree. It seems he doesn’t trust me. For good reason I’m afraid. Your virtue would hardly be safe in my hands. I’ve a weakness for winsome maids. You’re to sleep in Alec’s chamber, I’m grieved to say.”

“WWhat?” she sputtered. “As long as I breathe, I’ll not share a bedchamber with him!”

Alec appeared in the doorway, narrowing his gaze on her.

Her heart thumped faster, as it always did when she laid eyes on him. She thrust her chin forward, wishing she had bitten her tongue. He didn’t appear
happy,
apparently he was less pleased than Dominic at the arrival of their guests. She should have waited until they were alone to voice her displeasure. As stubborn as he was, ‘twas unlikely he would back down in front of his brother.

“’Tis merely the same chamber, not the same bed.”
Alec’s gaze shifted to Dominic. “Many thanks for breaking the news so gently. Now instead of one hot-tempered wench, I have two on my hands.”

Dominic’s ale-flushed cheeks deepened to a darker hue. “Oh no, don’t blame me. I offered to go to Langley’s, but you forced me to stay here with that plague of womanhood—to exorcise my ghosts, isn’t that what you said?”

Alec’s voice rose in response. “Goading her anger was not what I had in mind.”

“How do you expect me to keep a civil tongue in my head when Abigail makes her lust for me so clear? In front of our father no less? I merely drew her aside and advised her privately, she should keep her distance, ere she
expose
herself as the incestuous slut she is.”

Isabeau opened her mouth to speak, as they seemed to have forgotten she was still in the room.

Alec’s wry voice cut her off, “’Twould be wiser to ignore her than show what effect she has on you.”

“I’ve ignored her these past five years, lot of good it’s done. She’s too thick-pated to take the hint. Like a headless snake, she keeps slithering back. Ha! She’s sly, I’ll give her that. All of her wailing and whining that we’ve not shown her welcome is more to keep me here than any insult I’ve caused. She wouldn’t know an insult if it slapped her in the face.”

Isabeau cleared her throat, fearing she had already heard far more than she cared to. “Now that all of the sordid details of your family have been aired, mayhap we can discuss the nature of my lodging.”

Alec turned away from his brother, lifting a brow her way.
“If I remember correctly, ‘twas you who suggested the airing.
Are you telling me now, the stench is too much for you?”

She sucked in a long deep breath in an attempt to control her ire.
‘Twas foolish to lose her temper.
It only reminded him of the power he held over her. “Your family’s trouble doesn’t concern me.”

“I don’t blame you.” Dominic laughed, staggering toward the bed. “We’re a misbegotten lot.”

At the sound of his hopeless tone and the sight of his piteous state, Isabeau regretted her words. How she could conjure sympathy for a member of Fortin’s family she did not know, except it went against her nature to wish anyone ill. Mayhap ‘twas Dominic’s open manner and easy nature that made her want to protect him just as much as Alec did.

“I shouldn’t have said that, Dominic,” she said in a gentler tone. “My quarrel is with your brother, not you. I’m truly sorry for your trouble, and would not wish you ill.”

Dominic turned to slant a crooked smile. “Sometimes families are more trouble than they’re worth, are they not?”

She nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly as she turned to leave, a jumble of conflicted emotions at war in her breast. But she was not willing to give up yet. She paced in the corridor until Alec followed, closing the chamber door behind him. “You need not share your bedchamber with me. I can sleep with Myrtle in the hall.”

He tilted his dark head to give her a long look. “Even if I did trust you, which I do not, ’twould be unseemly for a lady to sleep in a hall full of men.”

“And yet you would shame me in front of your family, by closeting me in the same chamber with you, like some… whore? If you won’t think of my reputation, think of yours. Your honor will surely slip when others learn of the situation.”

 
“My honor is not in question, nor is my
family’s
,” he said coolly. “They’re well aware of why you’re here.”

“And you suggest mine is?” she asked with a lightness she did not feel. “If you wish to condemn me through association, then I believe I have a right to do the same, for it seems, from what I’ve just heard, your family is not as perfect as you’d have me believe.”

His features darkened. “Abigail is my stepmother. She’s no blood of mine. You, on the other hand, must take responsibility for what your sister has wrought.
‘Tis your duty as her kin.”

Isabeau glared back at him, fists clinched as tight as her heart. But, she would not argue. Anything she said would be a waste of breath. He had made up his mind about her the moment he had heard her name.

Why should she care what his family thought? When the ransom was paid, she would never see them again.

She turned away, but then, remembered the filthy state she was in. The hour grew late. The men would return from the river anon. Myrtle and Gwen would be busy serving in the hall. She dared not go to the bathhouse without someone to stand guard. She could not even have a sponge bath, sharing a room with him.

She spun back around, though she attempted to quell it, a note of desperation crept into her tone. “‘Tis very convenient your concern for propriety only extends as far as it affects you, but how am I to bathe—have any privacy at all, sharing a bedchamber with you?”

“You gave up any rights when you became my prisoner.” He lifted one brow, almost daring her to argue. “But, I have never taken advantage of my power over you, which bears proof I’m not the devil you make me out to be.”

She let out a loud puff of air. “What of the clothes you bade me sew when you knew very well ‘twould take me all night? You stole my dowry, for heaven sake! Do you wish me to thank you for that?”

He reached out a hand to cup her chin, forcing her to look at him. “But I haven’t harmed you—not in the way another captor might. I charge you to name another man who could look upon a maid as fair as you and not make her his mistress.”

A shiver rattled through her limbs. “I know no man as greedy as you.” No sooner had the words left her lips than she regretted them.

He went very still.

His blue eyes glittered like a winter’s eve in the dim light of the corridor. “’Tis true, I’ll not give up half of the ransom to bed you. But a willingness to prosper does not constitute greed, nor does demanding what was taken from me.” He snaked out his hand to clasp her by the waist, drawing her into his arms before she could think, let alone turn to flee. “But lest you feel insulted or think me weak, I’ll show you what I fight against each day in order to secure my future.”

When his mouth covered hers, all sense sailed away. There was a hunger behind the silky feel of his lips that sent panic snaking through her limbs, yet at the same time, held her transfixed. All manner of delicious sensations darted through her. When his tongue grazed hers, she moaned, clutching his chest rather than pushing him away, wanting more, wanting to float away on the swirling current of ecstasy his smooth, cool lips churned up inside of her.

Instead of twisting away as a chaste maid should, she leaned into him, enjoying the hard feel and heat of his body, willing his mouth to spin her closer to what she craved most—some yearning at her very core, needing to be satisfied.

When he lifted his head, reality rushed back like a cold bucket of water in the face.

She stared up at him, mouth slack,
limbs
weak and trembling. How was it that there could be such magic in his touch after all he had done to her? It did not make sense. “If your lust tests you thus,” she gasped in amazement, taking a step back, “Why do you wish me to sleep in your bedchamber?”

“It may test me,” he said with firm assurance. “But it won’t sway me from my course.” A wicked grin spread over his lips. “You’re the one who moaned, remember.” He turned on his heel to stride down the corridor toward the stairs that led to the hall.

Isabeau stood rooted to the spot, vexation growing in her breast.

Moaned?

She hadn’t moaned!

Had she?

Oh Lord, she had.

Rot!

Now he would think her overcome by lust for him.

Brazen rogue that he was!

His arrogance rubbed her raw.

If that loggerheaded knave believed he could toy with her in such a way, he had another thought coming. She was no weak-kneed milkmaid to be fondled at his leisure.

She might have moaned!

But what of him?

He boasted of his control, but his kiss contradicted the loose hold he had over his senses.

If they were forced to share a bedchamber, ‘twould surely happen again.

He was so determined his lust should not overtake his greed—that he should have every last coin of the ransom.

But what if he couldn’t.

He put such store in his self-control.

But, what if his control should begin to falter, if he felt her presence too much of a temptation, that certainly would not please him.

He would have no choice, but to banish her from his bedchamber with all haste.

A bubble of laughter rose in her throat just to think of it.

He was so arrogant—so sure of himself.

What joy it would be to prove him wrong.

Of course, she would have to tread lightly, taking care not to test him to the point that he lost all control.

Alec paced the corridor outside pf his bedchamber, gritting his teeth. What in the name of heaven could be taking her so long? He could see now allowing Isabeau the luxury of a private bath in his chamber had been a mistake. After tonight he would put his foot down—no more special treatment. She was a prisoner for God’s sake, and it was bloody well time she started behaving like one.

He stopped to pound his fist once again on the thick oak door.

“Coming, my lord!”
Isabeau called from within.

Coming? That was the third time she’d promised to unbar the door. She had to have been in that tub for hours—long enough to resemble a swollen dead carp.

Damnation and Hell fire!

He should have allowed Dominic to sleep on the pallet in his chamber when he’d offered instead of paying heed to Abigail’s accusations that he had grown soft—treating a prisoner with more consideration than his own kin.

Not that he cared what she thought, ‘twas his father’s raised brow that had decided the matter. If his father weren’t so blind to Abigail’s faults, he might have guessed her true motives for wanting Dominic to sleep alone. But Alec could hardly apprise him of that. ‘Twould break his father’s heart.

The scraping of the bar on the bedchamber door ceased Alec’s steady assault on the flags.