Vow of Seduction (15 page)

And Kat was the one who broke his enchanted sleep. But was it too late to rectify his mistake? Would Kat even believe him now? He could not wait a moment longer to find out. He began making his way to the reception doors when a man with dark auburn hair blocked his escape.

Thomas de Clare smiled and stepped forward, clasping him heartily and pounding him on the back. “By God, Alex, ’tis good to see you whole and hale.” Then he stepped back, shaking his head. “I didn’t believe it when Sir Luc told me you were alive.”

“Aye, ’tis good to be home.” Alex was glad to see his old friend, but he was anxious to be on his way. Still, he did not wish to offend Thomas. Alex had met him soon after Thomas and his brother, Gilbert, the Earl of Gloucester, abandoned Simon de Montfort’s rebellion and returned to King Henry’s ranks. “I thought you in Ireland. What brings you back?”

“Edward has need of my services in his dispute with the Bishop of Norwich. Once the dispute is settled, I intend to return to Thomond to finish putting down the rebellion there.”

“So, Thomas, Sir Luc told you of my return. Did he tell you aught else?”

Thomas crossed his arms over his chest. “If you mean did we speak of his aborted wedding, nay, we did not. ’Tis an awkward business that, I hope, has not caused any difficulty between you two.”

Alex replied, his smile grim. “Unfortunately, it can’t be helped. I suspect Sir Luc still has aspirations towards Kat. But I shall never give her up.” He refused to think about the possibility should Kat demand an annulment at the end of their agreement. Alex had given his vow of honor to do so should he fail to convince her to remain married. And never would he break a sworn oath.

De Clare nodded, then looked over Alex’s shoulder. Alex followed his gaze. Rand was speaking to an unsmiling Lady Lydia in the alcove. When Lydia looked up and saw Alex staring, her face transformed. Holding his gaze, her lips turned up in a coy, yet inviting smile.

Where once Lydia’s smile had the power to smite him, now it seemed false or contrived. Alex turned back to de Clare, unwilling to give her the wrong impression.

“Obviously, Lady Lydia still has aspirations towards you, too,” said Thomas.

“I wouldn’t know what Lydia thinks, but should she, any designs she might have of a possible relationship with me are fruitless. I am married now and very content with my bride.”

“I’m happy for you, Alex. But I have a feeling her arrival is not happenstance. I hope it shall not complicate matters.”

How apropos
, Alex thought. ‘Matters’ certainly just got more complicated. He could blame no one but himself, though. Judging he could leave now without offending de Clare, Alex made his excuses.

“My thanks, Thomas. ’Tis good to see you again,” Alex said, bowing.

“’Tis odd, you and Sir Luc have something in common in that regard.”

Startled, Alex stopped mid-bow and brought his head up sharply. “To what do you refer?”

His friend’s eyes rounded in surprise. “Why, surely you know that Sir Luc cannot abide his stepmother?”

“Stepmother?” Now Alex was truly perplexed.

“Aye. Lady Lydia Joinville.”

Taken aback, Alex was sure he misheard Thomas. “Are you saying that Sir Luc’s father, Lord Joinville, was the baron Lady Lydia married?”

“Of course. You did not know?”

He had never wanted to know the name of the baron Lydia married and she had never offered it. At the time, to put a face to the man who would spend his nights in Lydia’s bed and give her children would have been sheer agony. All Alex had known was the baron she married had been an older man beyond his prime.

Alex shook his head, unable to answer, his thoughts reeling. He tried to sort them out, put each one in perspective.

“Thomas, you mentioned there was discord between Sir Luc and Lady Lydia. Do you know the reason for his animosity?”

Thomas took his arm and pulled him aside to a quiet corner of the room. His voice low, he said, “Rumor has it that Sir Luc never approved of his father’s choice of bride. Then one night after father and son had a violent quarrel about her, the old man disowned him. Servants’ gossip is that Sir Luc blames Lady Lydia for the estrangement.”

Alex bowed again. “I’m grateful to you for this knowledge, Thomas. But I must beg your pardon now. I have something that must needs done and cannot be delayed a moment longer.”

“Certes. I shall not hold you up,” he said and clasped Alex on the shoulder. “Should you ever need aught, let me know.”

Alex thanked him and made his way to the door. When the next arrival was announced, Alex slipped outside while a hundred pairs of thoroughly assessing eyes alighted on the newcomer. He breathed a sigh of relief, glad to escape the hot, crowded chamber. In contrast, the corridor was cool and dark, dark like his thoughts.

“I’m such a dolt, am I,” he said to naught but shadows, smacking his palm on his forehead. And for much, much too long a time, he thought. But he intended to rectify his idiocy. Making his way through the corridors, he sighed again; it seemed he was forever in pursuit of his wife.

A fool’s errand, perchance?

He shook off the notion like a wet dog after a dip in the river. Doubts were for weak men, doubts clouded the mind and eroded confidence. Nay, he was not a man to lay down his arms and surrender without a fight.

Taking a deep breath, Kat slid down in the tub of water and immersed her entire body. Liquid heat scorched her, soothing her tense muscles, but naught could melt the cold, pitted knot lodged in her chest.

Cocooned in the water’s loving embrace, her knees bent up to her chest, absolute silence blanketed her ears—similar to what an unborn babe must feel inside a mother’s womb, Kat imagined. She envied that unborn entity. To be truly innocent and pure, free of pain and sadness and disillusionment.

She stayed under until her lungs burned. Kat surged up off her back to a sitting position, gasping for air and blinking water from her eyes. Aye, water, not a tear, never a tear would she shed for her despicable husband.

Before her a fire crackled in the hearth and she heard her servant bustling about the antechamber on the other side of the screen.

“Jenny, hand me my soap.”

A short pause, then Jenny replied, “’Tis on the stool beside ye, milady.”

“Aye, of course, I knew that,” Kat muttered under her breath. All afternoon she had drifted on an invisible current, treading murky water, too afraid to delve below the surface to the inherent danger hidden beneath, just waiting to suck her under and drown her in misery.

“What shall ye be wearing to supper, milady?”

“I care not. Any old tunic will do.”

Silence greeted her. Then Jenny poked her head around the screen, her red braids bright in the fire glow. “Ye do not want to look your best this eve and show up that wicked woman? I thought ye had more pride than that.”

Kat grunted at the well-aimed volley. She lifted her leg out of the water and propped her foot on the tub’s edge. Not immediately answering, she glared at the delicate arch of her long narrow foot. She wanted to plant it up—

“You may lay out my garnet tunic. Oh…and the garnet brooch and my jeweled rings. There, does that please you?”

Jenny chuckled, her green eyes mischievous. “Aye, if you are pleased, I am pleased.” Then Jenny marched into the adjacent bedchamber and began rummaging through Kat’s chest.

Kat grumbled under her breath. Although she hated Alex for humiliating her, for making her believe even for a short while that he might care for her, she would not let that witch get the better of her. She was
not
taking care with her dress to impress the lying bastard to whom she was shackled, for the nonce.

Lathering her cloth, she caught a subtle whiff of her jasmine, amber, and musk-scented soap. She skimmed the cloth down her leg and then proceeded to do the same with the other one. She finished the rest of her ablutions as quickly as possible, except for her back.

“Jenny, will you scrub my back?” she hollered.

Heat caressed her ear as a familiar, corded bronze hand plucked the soap from her hand. “Here, allow me.”

Kat yelped and spun around. It was a mistake, for Alex was kneeling behind her. Their lips brushed—shivery heat raced down her neck and she jerked back in surprise. Alex dropped his gaze. A carnal smile curved his lips and his eyes glittered with desire. She looked down, too, and saw that her nipples, hard as pebbles, jutted above the water lapping at her breasts.

Kat turned around and plunged forward, pressing her chest to her knees. Water splashed over the sides. Unfortunately her back was exposed now. “How dare you intrude on my bath? You have no right. I want you out of here, now!”

Alex chuckled without humor. “I, no more than you, heed well commands. What a grand couple we shall make. What marvelous children we shall conceive and bring forth into this world.”

“Never,” she declared vehemently, then suddenly remembered something. “Where is Jenny?”

“Jenny?” Alex yelled out cheekily.

“Aye, milord?” the maid responded, her voice hesitant.

“Be gone.”

“Stay,” Kat countered.

The sound of the door closing reverberated through Kat’s rib cage, like a crypt door sealing her to her doom.

“Much better, do you not agree?” Alex purred in her ear.

Nay, I cannot breathe
.

Alex swirled the soapy cloth in slow, drugging circles down her back. Fire erupted over her flesh wherever his fingers teased.

Kat stiffened against the onslaught. “Nay, I do not. You have some gall. You humiliated me before the court with your disgusting display over that trollop. Do you really expect me to welcome you as though naught has changed?”

Alex’s hand paused. “Nay, but I needs must explain what you saw when Lady Lydia was announced.”

Kat stared into the flames. “There is naught to explain. I saw all. You are still in love with her. And I, along with everyone at court, know it!”

Alex leaned forward, his voice insistent. “Kat, I know how it must have looked, but ’tis not what you think. You mistook what you saw.”

Kat turned around and swatted his hands away. “This is your defense? Do I understand you aright? What you are saying is that I cannot see with mine own eyes. Cannot see when my husband makes a fool of himself…and me.” Kat’s voice broke. She spun back around, wrapped her arms around her knees and glared into the fire. “I am but a woman, obviously deluded,” she said coldly.

“Nay, ’tis not what I meant. Aye, you saw aright my reaction upon seeing Lady Lydia, but ’tis not how I truly feel about her.”

“You are unbelievable, Alex. You do not deny you looked upon Lydia as though besotted. Yet you claim you do not feel such for her. And you expect me to believe you? Nay, sir, ’tis you who are deluded.”

“I know it sounds implausible, I barely understand it myself. But when Lydia walked into the room, all the old emotions I felt for her came rushing back, then—”

“Silence,” Kat cried out, clutching the tub’s edge in a death grip. “I don’t want to hear this. Get out! Out!” Her voice rose on a screech.

“Nay,” he said, clamping his hands down upon her shoulders as though forcing his will into hers. Then he clutched her chin and turned her face to him, a fanatical gleam in his eyes. “I shall not leave until I have had my say. Until I make you understand—”

“Oh, I
understand
perfectly. But I refuse to listen to more of your lies and false words. I shall never trust you. The bargain is off. Lady Lydia is welcome to you.”

Alex was crouched down on his haunches, and Kat, maneuvering an arm between them, shoved him. Caught off balance, he flew back into the screen. The screen toppled over and hit the floor with a thunderous crack. Alex landed on his arse atop it with a painful grunt.

Kat jumped out of the tub, plucked a large drying cloth off the stool and hurriedly wrapped it around her torso. Safely swathed in linen from chest to upper thigh, she turned around.

Alex had already regained his feet and stood with his legs spread, hands on his hips. His face was carved with anger, the scar on his chin in stark relief. A low, animal-like growl was her only warning before he dipped his shoulder, grabbed her hips, and flung her over his shoulder like a Viking berzerker.

Kat screamed in outrage, which turned into a squeak when Alex’s fingers skimmed up her inner thigh. She squirmed violently to avoid his invading hand, but to no avail.

“In the brief span since my return, you’ve slapped me and knocked me on my arse. I see now I have been too lenient in allowing you the upper hand. I believe some discipline is in order to prove to you I am not a man with whom to trifle.”

“I am no child to be disciplined. Now put me down this instant,” she panted.

“Aye, I agree. You are not a child, but all woman…a beautiful woman of flesh and blood and passion,” he ended hoarsely.

Between her thighs, his fingers threaded through the black curly hair guarding her sheath. He brushed his fingers back and forth again and again, his touch teasing. Her breath hitched at the exquisite torture, stealing her senses and her intended rebuke. Then he tugged the hair gently. Kat moaned.

He delved again, running his fingers along her crease, but not touching flesh, trailing from her buttocks down to her plump bud. Caught up in the exquisite sensations, Kat did not even think to resist. He tugged on the silky hairs once more, setting off ripples of pleasure. Her nether lips swelled, tingling with pent-up longing as she dampened with desire.

“Your dew is sweet upon my fingers, my lady. But ’tis just a taste of what I intend to wring from your lips. I shall give no quarter, and ere I am through, there will be no more talk of ending our bargain.”

Kat snarled in disbelief, “You would take me by force?”

Alex laughed. “I shall have no need of force, my dear. You want me. Already your body betrays you. With only a little persuasion on my part, I shall have you writhing in my arms, begging me to take you.”

Then she flew through the air, and landed on a soft cloud of goose feathers, coverlet, and animal furs. Her linen barrier was somehow lost in the scuffle.

Driven by an odd mixture of anger and arousal at his threat, Kat rose to flee. On her hands and knees, she scrabbled away from him, but his hand clutched her ankle and tugged. A startled yelp escaped her. She reached desperately for a carved post, but her hand slipped and clutched only fur as she landed on her stomach.

He dragged her back, the tangled fur beneath her aiding Alex as she slid easily down the bed, exposing the linen sheets underneath. Before she could move, he sprawled on top of her. His hard body, all muscle and heat, pressed her down into the mattress. He grabbed her flailing hands and secured them above her head, effectively imprisoning her.

Her strength sapped, Kat lay unmoving beneath Alex. Harsh breathing, his and hers, resounded like pounding anvils in the aftermath of their tussle. It was not long before she became aware of the pleasurable sensations buffeting her body; underneath her, fur tickled her breasts, quickening her nipples into hard peaks, while above her, Alex’s moist breath panted against her neck. And the hard ridge of his arousal prodded her hip.

Charged tension, heavy as a sultry summer day, arced between them.

Her body softened instinctively, and she was immediately horrified by her reaction. Did she have no self-respect? Alex may lust after her, but he was not in love with her. How could she have forgotten so easily that Alex was incapable of ever loving anyone but Lydia? What happened to her resolve to end their marriage and marry Luc, a man who loved and respected her as Alex never could?

Refusing to let her body defeat her, she renewed her struggles.