The Bargain (10 page)

Lady Elena?
Was that the name of Renaud's betrothed? Her mind raced, trying to remember, but she could not recall. But the woman was French, her accent thick, despite her command of the English language.

"You have grown into a man. The last I saw you, you were but a boy." Her gaze shifted over Galeran in a way that suggested more than words could ever say. Aleysia watched Renaud closely, gauging his reaction, but he seemed not at all bothered by the exchange. In truth, the slight smile on his lips made her think him amused by the banter going on between the pair.

Lady Elena laughed under her breath. "Indeed, you were my brother's page when last we met. You were rather small back then."

Her brother's page? Then realization came to Aleysia in a flash. This woman was not Renaud's betrothed, but his sister. She ignored the exhilaration rushing throughout her. Aleysia glanced at de Wulf to find him watching her closely. Did he guess at her uneasiness, and could he sense the vast relief she felt knowing this beautiful woman was not his betrothed? To her dismay, she could not help the smile that came to her lips.

Renaud smiled, too, and Aleysia's pulse quickened.

"I am no longer small, nor am I a boy," Galeran said, his tone intent. His fingers curled around his goblet as he brought it to his lips, watching Lady Elena over the rim.

Elena pursed her lips. "No, you are
much
larger. Every inch a man."

Galeran choked on his wine, his cheeks blazing crimson. Renaud laughed, and Aleysia smiled, pleased at the deep, rumbling sound.

Aleysia reached for her goblet, knowing she could use the wine's effect to calm her.

But it seemed Galeran was not finished. "Are you at Braemere for an extended stay, Lady Elena?" There was no mistaking the hope in his voice. Though the young knight could not be much older than herself, it was clear to Aleysia by the fine lines around the woman's eyes that Elena was at least ten years his senior, perhaps more. However, those lines did nothing to diminish Elena's beauty.

"Aye, I am." Elena's eyes twinkled with an inner fire, and Aleysia wondered if perhaps she was not witnessing the beginning of a liaison. Would she one day wear her emotions openly like this woman did, and flirt outrageously while in the company of others? She doubted she could ever be like this strong woman, who seemed not to care who heard or saw the exchange.

"I am sorry to hear of your husband's death, Lady Elena," Galeran said sincerely before drinking deeply from his goblet.

"You are the only one then, Galeran."

Galeran choked again on his wine, and Renaud shook his head.

Once Galeran was again breathing right, Renaud turned to his sister. "Father always said you would be the death of Lorange."

"He was right. That is what father deserved for marrying me off to an old man." Elena shrugged. "Enough of me and my best-to-be-forgotten past. I would like to know more about Aleysia. Since my rude brother has failed to introduce us, I shall have to take it upon myself to do so."

"Forgive me," Renaud said apologetically.

"Elena, meet Aleysia. Aleysia, this is my outspoken sister Elena."

Elena nodded. "A pleasure to meet you, my dear. Now tell me something of yourself."

Aleysia, having felt secure in listening to the banter going on about her, shifted uneasily. She always hated talking about herself, preferring to listen to others instead. "I fear there is little to tell, Lady Elena."

"You are Saxon, yet my brother tells me you have lived with the Scots for some time? How did that come to pass?"

Aleysia tried to ignore the burning gray stare of the man at her side, but found it difficult. "When Baron de Pirou killed our parents, we decided we could not stay at Braemere. My brother and I traveled to Scotland to live with my father's good friend, Laird MacMillan. We have been there these past three years."

Elena lifted a fine dark brow. "And this MacMillan is your betrothed?"

"Aye, he is."

"Was,"
Renaud blurted.

Elena smiled knowingly, her gaze skipping to her brother before returning to Aleysia. "Do you love this man? This Scottish laird?" She shuddered, as though truly horrified. "I have heard the men from the north are positively barbaric!"

Though Aleysia had half a mind to make a comment about Norman barbarians, she refrained, not wanting to anger Renaud, his men, and sister.

Aleysia's cheeks turned warm under the other woman's intent stare. She swallowed hard, choosing her words carefully. "I admire Duncan, and have come to care for him."

"But you do not love him?"

Aleysia remembered well her words to Renaud the day MacMillan had come to Braemere. "He was a dear friend of my father's."

"Then we are kindred spirits, for I was forced into marrying my father's good friend." She took a sip from her goblet. "I assure you, Aleysia, that you do not love this man, but you agreed to marry him because of your father's wishes. You are an obedient daughter, just as I was." Elena reached across her brother to touch Aleysia's hand. "Be glad that you do not love him. The only reason I am grateful for my husband at all is that he managed to give me two beautiful sons. They were, and remain, my saving grace."

"You are a mother, then?" Aleysia asked, unable to keep the surprise from her voice.

"Aye, and I can see by the brightness of your smile that you desire children as well."

Aleysia nodded, doing her best to ignore the man sitting beside her. She felt his steady regard—and it unnerved her, especially given the current discussion. "Aye, Duncan has children already, but he desires more."

Renaud's jaw clenched tight, but he stayed silent.

"Did your children travel with you?" Aleysia asked.

Elena's smile faded. "My sons are in Sicily with their uncle, my husband's brother, acquiring lands for their future. I know they are safe with their uncle, but I miss them horribly."

"I can only imagine."

"They miss their uncle Renaud as well," Elena said, smiling at her brother. "They hope one day to serve in your army."

Aleysia realized in that moment how very little she knew of Renaud de Wulf. She had learned more in the past few moments with his sister, than during a full week in his company. Ironically, she wished to know everything about this man who had come storming into her life. What he was like as a child. His likes. His dislikes. His loves...

"And one day they shall, sister," Renaud replied with a wink. "I look forward to that day."

Aleysia felt her cheeks grow hot as Renaud turned back to her and stared. "Are they grown then?"

Elena's gaze dipped from Aleysia to Renaud, then back to Aleysia, a knowing smile on her lips. "Morgar is five and ten, and Renaud is two and ten."

Aleysia turned to Renaud to find him watching her closely. There was a softness in his eyes as he watched her. "Your nephew shares your name."

He nodded. "Aye, he does."

"I feared my brother would not live long enough to have sons himself, so I selfishly named my youngest after him," Elena said, rubbing her brother's forearm. "Mayhap I was wrong in doing so."

Renaud turned to Elena and took hold of her hand. "Nay, sister. I am honored that you would name your beloved son after me. God willing, I will have a son, and when I do, I will give him a name different than my own, so that I do not make my wife crazy with confusion."

"You were always wise," Elena replied, before turning back to Aleysia. "What of your brother, Aleysia?"

Aleysia set her goblet down with a trembling hand. Apparently,

Renaud had not informed his sister of Adelstan's whereabouts. "What of him?"

Elena smiled. "Is he as beautiful as you?"

Flattered by the compliment, Aleysia replied, "Thank you for your kindness, and yes—women have always favored my brother. It is sad that he rots away in the tower as we speak."

Elena frowned. "You jest?"

"Nay, I do not."

Thankfully, the pages approached with large trenchers of venison, mutton with dried peas, and beans. The smells of garlic and onion filled the space, and everyone's attention turned to eating.

Aleysia reached for her goblet and drained it, ignoring Renaud's sideways glance. She rarely drank wine, not liking the effect it had on her mind, but she needed to steel her nerves for what lay ahead this evening. Tonight she would be leaving Braemere, forever. She had to remind herself that the beautiful fief was no longer her home, that it had stopped being so the moment her parents had been killed. She would return to Scotland with Adelstan, and live the rest of her days in peace.

Away from this man and his dangerous beauty. Feeling too warm all of a sudden, Aleysia moved over a little, away from Renaud and closer to Galeran. The young knight glanced her way and smiled. He then looked at Renaud, and abruptly returned his attention to the food before him.

Supper continued, and Aleysia ate heartily, knowing it might very well be the last meal for her in a while. She had hidden away in a canvas bag some fruit, cheese, and bread for the journey.

By the time the musicians began to play, filling the high-ceilinged room with the sound of lutes and harp in concert, Aleysia's nerves were on edge. Time was of the essence. She must get back to the tower before the servant took the wine to the guards.

She glanced over at Renaud, who watched the musicians play. Catching her gaze, he turned and smiled.

Her heart pounded loudly as she stared at him, memorizing each feature, each line on his face. The beautiful shade of his eyes, the scar on his cheek that marked him as the warrior he was. She doubted she would ever meet another man like him for as long as she lived.

He tilted his head a little and frowned. "You stare, Aleysia. What displeases you so?"

Did he actually believe she found him lacking? If only he knew the truth. She leaned forward to where her lips were just inches from his. "Nothing, my lord. I am going to retire."

"So early?" The words were low, husky, his eyes dark with a fire she recognized.

Her blood burned for him as well. "It has been a long day, and I am tired." She dropped her gaze from his for a moment in an effort to steady her nerves. "Would you like to join me?" she asked, meeting his gaze once more. She knew he would certainly stay in the hall for a while with his sister. It would be rude to leave now since she had only just arrived.

The sides of his mouth curved. "Aye, I would, but I must make my sister welcome. Mayhap you can keep the bed warm?"

She smiled, relieved. "Aye, I will."

"Then I will be along shortly."

"I will be waiting, my lord."

CHAPTER 9

Renaud entered the darkened bedchamber. Aleysia sat on a chair before the fire, a fur wrapped about her slender frame. As he closed the door behind him, she looked up and met his gaze.

His heart skipped a beat. Her hair had been brushed out until it glistened like fine silk, the soft blonde curls falling all about her like a veil. He pushed the door closed and removed his boots.

She watched him intently, her gaze shifting over him slowly. One would never guess by looking at her that just days ago she had been a virgin. Not by the way she stared at him now, her light green eyes boldly wandering over his body.

Desire coiled within him, warming his veins, making his cock throb and his balls ache. It had been days since they had last made love. He had not had the heart to touch her after MacMillan's visit, when she had cried. Her sobs had torn at him, and though he wanted to make love to her every day since then, he refrained, too afraid that his father's words would ring true.

Plus, Renaud could not afford to forget his focus, and that was securing Braemere, along with the rest of the north. Only when that task was completed would he have time to pursue other things, like marrying and having children.

Yet Aleysia had already worked her way under his skin, and he could not afford to lose himself in a woman. Not now, when there was so much to be done.

He removed his tunic and tossed it aside, then worked on his chausses and braies. Her light eyes seemed lit from within as she watched him, her cheeks tinged a flattering shade of pink.

She stood, letting the blanket fall, and he let out a breath.

Her trembling gave her nervousness away, but to her credit, she did not try to cover her naked form. Instead, she straightened her spine, her shoulders arched just enough to push her breasts out. Her rose-pink nipples crinkled into hard points.

His gaze shifted lower, over her flat stomach, to the blonde triangle of hair between her legs. Memories of her tight channel gripping him made his cock harder and longer. She noticed his arousal, for her brows lifted as she stared boldly, and she licked her pink full lips.

That stare had him crossing the room to reach her, but he stopped a few feet from her. He wanted her to be the aggressor tonight.

She took a step, and then another. Next her arms looped around his neck, and she lifted her chin. He didn't have long to wait for her kiss—a soft peck that ended far too quickly. His fingers curled about her hips, pulling her closer, encouraging her.

Her tongue stroked the seam of his lips and he opened. She sighed as her tongue stroked his, slowly, parrying with his, experimenting as her arms tightened about his neck.

Her hard nipples brushed against his chest, and for a second he forgot about letting her take control. He rubbed his cock against her belly, showing her what she did to him. She moaned low in her throat, and he smiled against her lips, pleased by her response.

His hand slid down her belly, lower to the soft curls that guarded her femininity. Parting her, he stroked her hot, slick flesh with his fingers. Her breath hitched in her throat and she stopped kissing him back. Instead, her head fell to his shoulder, her breath warm against his chest. Then her lips were there, pressed against the pulse now beating wildly. Using his foot, he pushed her feet farther apart and continued stroking her, inserting a single finger into her slick, molten core.

While he pleasured her, she in turn kissed the lobe of his ear, his jaw, his chin. With heart pounding nearly out of his chest, he looked down at her, and what he saw took his breath away. Her eyes were bright with a passion he had not seen before. And he realized with a start, that she wanted him as badly as he wanted her. Her gaze shifted to his lips once more, and he lowered his head, capturing her mouth with his.