Sin and Surrender (18 page)

And then he saw the stranger lean toward Juliana as if he would touch her arm. And she was still smiling that soft smile at him, and it took everything in Paul not to jerk the man away from her.

Juliana saw him coming, and her expression turned sensual for his benefit, even as he knew it was part of a facade.

“Sir Paul, you finally returned to me,” she said, tucking her hand in his elbow and briefly leaning her head against his arm.

Paul looked down at the stranger, whose height did not reach his chin. “Do I know you, sir? You and my companion seem already the best of friends.”

Juliana gave a low chuckle. “And we were. Sir Paul, may I introduce Sir Alexander Clowes. We knew each other in childhood.”

Sir Paul the Dissolute wasn’t supposed to know about her life, but the real Paul understood her message. Clowes knew the truth of her background. But Juliana seemed so at ease that she must not fear that Clowes would reveal her.

Then they’d had a close friendship, Paul thought, feeling again that awkward pressure in his chest, that need to hold her against him as if he owned her.

And to everyone here, he
did
own her, he realized. He slid his arm about her waist. “Sir Alexander, ‘tis good to meet a friend of Juliana’s. We can exchange stories about her.”

Juliana rolled her eyes. “Paul, you say such silly things. You need not know the boring details of my life.”

Paul studied Clowes. “So you two did boring things together?”

“We were but children,” Clowes said, “playing games of childhood.” He reddened, glancing between Juliana and Paul as if he didn’t know what to say.

Paul assumed the man worried about protecting her secrets, but perhaps that was not all. Had there been more between them?

“By games, do you mean helping her learn to use weapons?” Paul asked.

Clowes’s mouth dropped open, and Juliana stared at Paul, projecting shock at first, then the bemusement of the real Juliana underneath.

“I never told you that,” she breathed, fake fear quickening in her dark eyes.

“I know much about you, my little duckling,” he said, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “And now here I have the chance to learn even more.”

She gave a halfhearted smile, as if she still feared Paul’s mention of her past. “You know I’ve always answered any of your questions.”

“Aye, but ‘tis not the same as meeting someone who’s known you much longer than I have.” He elbowed Clowes. “But you haven’t known her that well, eh, Sir Alexander?”

Clowes shook his head. “She was but thirteen when I was sent home. ‘Twas a friendship we shared, nothing more,” he said firmly.

Trying to protect Juliana. Admirable, of course, but revealing.

“Glad I am to hear it,” Paul said. “Juliana, let us find a tankard of ale and listen to the minstrels. A good evening to you, Sir Alexander.”

When they retired to their bedchamber, Paul allowed Juliana to shut the door. He removed the belt at his waist, then glanced about, only to realize that Juliana had leaned back against the door to regard him.

“Looking forward to watching me disrobe?” he asked lightly.

She said nothing for a moment, her expression quizzical. “We had agreed to never mention my past. Why did you speak of it to Alex?”

“Alex, is it?” He smiled.

“We were children, so I would call him nothing else.”

“Of course, of course.” He walked slowly toward her. “But I cannot help my curiosity about you. I can hardly talk to ‘Alex’ about you if we’re pretending.”

“Why would you want to talk to him about me?” she demanded, putting a hand on his chest before he could get too close.

He had her boxed in near the door, and enjoyed the feeling of looking down on her, knowing she couldn’t retreat.

Softly, he said, “How else can I get to know the little girl who played war games with the boys?”

Juliana’s expression softened. “In truth, as I grew older, Alex was usually the only boy who would play with me. He fought the others on my behalf.”

“Did he?” Paul crossed his arms over his chest and continued to study her. “Why would he do that?”

“Because the boys began to treat me differently, and he would no longer permit me to fight my own battles.”

“Smart young man,” Paul mused. “I imagine many a maturing boy would have liked to wrestle with you.”

“I did not like how things were changing.” She pushed past him and walked farther into the chamber. “I could understand, of course. I was the lord’s daughter, and the boys were finally realizing they’d been crossing swords with someone they could marry.”

“But not Alex.”

She tilted her head as she watched him. “As I told
you, we did not think of each other like that. Do you find jealousy stirring in your breast, Sir Paul?”

“Sir Paul the Dissolute certainly does. He knows he doesn’t have the brains to keep a woman such as you for long.”

“A woman such as I doesn’t require brains in her man—or so I told Alex,” she added, beginning to smile.

“He must have been very curious about our relationship.”

Though her smile didn’t fade, it became tinged with melancholy. “He understood all too well. He thought I’d gone to a nunnery.”

Paul wanted to wince, but knew she hated pity. “Would he have preferred that?”

“Strangely enough, nay. He said he was glad I wasn’t shut away, that I was out in the world with a chance at happiness.” She shook her head ruefully.

“Juliana the Concubine would not admit to that.”

“Nay, she would not. She is in the profession of serving you—Sir Paul the Dissolute, that is.”

“Serving me,” he repeated, dragging the words out.

“I believe I already served you today,” she said, picking up her night rail.

“You did not finish,” he reminded her.

“I
offered
to finish bathing you,” she said sweetly.

“And you know that’s not my meaning.”

He wished he could push aside the screen to watch
her. He heard the splash of water into a basin, and knew Michael must have been here to prepare for them. Michael was behaving appropriately for his character as manservant—Paul found it too easy to behave exactly as his own character would. Juliana was a woman he desired—an experienced woman, who’d already given herself to a man.

He pulled off his tunic and hose, dragging on a thin pair of breeches to sleep in. He opened the shutters to let in the night air, feeling overly warm—overly aroused. But he could be patient.

He’d been saying that to himself for days now, he thought ruefully.

Juliana heard the door softly open, and she snapped to alertness from a deep sleep. She pulled her dagger from beneath her pillow, knew Paul was doing the same.

Her fellow Bladesmen would have heard the footsteps in the corridor, were monitoring who came and went. They’d allowed this person to pass.

In the dimness of the chamber, she saw only one man, a dark silhouette. Instead of approaching the bed, he set something on the table, then pulled the cover off to reveal a lantern.

Quickly, she undid the laces at her neck, let the dressing gown and robe reveal her shoulder. She had to hide the fact that she’d worn a dressing gown to bed. Giving a
little gasp, she half sat up. “Paul?” she cried, then realized that her thin garments had fallen so much they revealed the upper curve of her breast. She didn’t cover herself.

“I am not here to hurt you,” the man said in a quiet, impassive voice.

Paul scrambled over the top of her, standing in front of the bed as if he were partially shielding her. “I know you not, sir. Do you have the wrong lodgings?”

The man remained in front of the lamp, which kept his face in the shadows. “I do not, Sir Paul.”

“You know my name, but I know not yours.”

“My name is not important, and neither is yours. You will soon be pretending ‘tis a false one, regardless.”

Paul said nothing for a moment. “Speak freely, for my companion knows of the bargain I made that put us in too much danger.”

“You made the bargain, Sir Paul.” His voice took on a dangerous edge. “We agreed to cancel your debts and pay you more besides. And now I hear you are threatening to leave.”

Sitting up, Juliana held the coverlet to her breasts, and kept her breathing loud and full of fright, as she looked back and forth between the two men in worried confusion.

“No threat, sir, but a statement of fact,” Paul said. “I was promised there would be no danger to myself—and we were attacked on the road!”

“By highwaymen,” the man said dismissively. “They are everywhere, and if your men could not handle them, ‘tis not our fault.”

“I am here, without a scratch upon my person,” Paul insisted. “My men acquitted themselves well. But that is not the point. I thought I would be playing a part for you, an amusement, and now—”

“You are not so much the fool,” the man interrupted impatiently. “You know ‘tis no amusement we are about, not for what we are paying you.”

“Then tell me!” Paul demanded.

“Keep your voice down!” the man commanded in a low, threatening voice. He moved toward the door, head bent as if listening.

Juliana squinted her eyes, trying to see his face, but he was too good at hiding it.

“You know the truth, Sir Paul,” the man said with sarcasm. “You made yourself quite visible at every major town between here and London, spending money and showing your fine clothing, all while not saying your surname. ‘From Flanders’ I heard—as if many do not know what that means, or who might be backing you.”

Paul said nothing.

“You know that your features resemble the boy king and his brother. You know that desperate men will take great chances to right the wrongs done to our country.”

Juliana let herself gape at the man in confusion.

“You have offered yourself up, and we intend to use you. Change your mind, and suffer the consequences as you’re tossed in debtor’s prison—and that would be only if you were lucky. Right now, you live because we protect you. Go to prison, and you’re on your own.”

Paul remained stiff with tension at the center of the chamber. “What do you want me to do?”

“Wait. Make yourself visible, as you’ve been doing, but reveal nothing. Be a mystery—which means keep your mouth shut. We begin to question whether you can do that.”

“I can do what I have to,” he said heavily.

The man covered the lantern again, and the chamber went dark. “We will contact you soon,” were his parting words.

Then the door shut behind him.

P
aul lit a candle from the embers of the near dead fire, and turned to face Juliana. Her hair was disheveled, her shoulder bare as if they’d just finished bed sport.

“You might want to fix your garments,” he said. “We will not be alone long.”

She slid from the bed, and he watched her retie the laces of her night rail, spied the fine lace trim that teased him so unmercifully before she closed the dressing gown and belted it at the waist.

“You wanted him to notice your pale flesh by lantern light,” he said wryly.

“Of course. I could not allow him to realize I wore a dressing gown to bed with my patron.”

“So then if we have to continue our disguises in bed, you’ll wear just your night rail—or nothing at all. I might insist that my concubine be ready for my every whim.”

She rolled her eyes. Then the Bladesmen used their
knock and invited themselves inside. Theobald went to the window, while the others arranged themselves in chairs or leaned against the wall.

Paul’s amused expression faded. “Was our visitor accompanied by others?”

Timothy shook his head and stretched out his legs to cross them. “He was alone. Very bold of him.”

“He was confident he held all the power,” Juliana said.

Paul briefly explained what had happened. “At least we know they truly want to use me somehow.”

“And that they picked up on your knowledge that you look the part,” Joseph added thoughtfully. “You appear gullible, weak when it comes to money, but not quite so stupid.”

Paul bowed his head. “You flatter me, sir.”

“Too stupid, and you’d be too hard to control,” Michael said grudgingly.

Paul knew that was almost a compliment. “So we wait,” he said.

Timothy turned to Juliana. “Someone recognized you.”

She nodded. “Sir Alexander Clowes. He fostered with my family in his youth, and we were friends.”

“Will he cause problems?”

“Nay, he sees my place as tenuous at Paul’s side, and he would not wish me ill. He agreed not to reveal my surname, thinking I would not wish to be shamed. As
if being a concubine was such a prideful position,” she added, giving a faint smile.

“Then continue as you’ve been doing,” Timothy said, rising to his feet. “And the rest of us will continue to befriend the soldiers and servants.”

The Bladesmen filed out, all taking a moment to wish Juliana a good sleep. Paul wondered if as the men grew more fond of her, the more they’d see him as the enemy from whom she needed protection.

“I think you surprise Timothy and the others,” Juliana said quietly when they were alone.

Paul turned to her, eyebrows raised. “Why? Certainly, Timothy has known me my whole life.”

“Not the last few years. Surely, he had cause to wonder how your bitterness toward the League had changed you. But you work well within the group.”

“A Bladesman well trained,” he said, not bothering to disguise his antipathy as he turned toward the bed.

She caught his shoulder. “Of course you were well trained,” she said angrily. “You now have skills that have caused you to win tournaments, that have saved your life. Why are you so ungrateful that the League kept you safe from murderers as a child?”

Though Juliana had thought that bitterness hadn’t warped his life, now she wasn’t so certain. The shadows in the near dark chamber made him look like an angry stranger.

“If that’s all it was, I
would
be grateful,” he said coldly. “But your precious League voted to try something never done before, and my
foster father
didn’t stop it.”

“Then tell me, Paul. Make me see why you and I are on opposite sides of an insurmountable wall where the League is concerned. Show me why you disdain a man who tries to love you as a son.”