Vow of Seduction (23 page)

His hand clamped down on hers as she clutched his sword handle. “Nay. You will only distract him. He needs all his concentration to escape the bear. Watch and see.”

The bear charged then, and Alex dodged to the left, keeping the pole a barrier between them and striking out with his sword to keep it at bay. The bear attacked twice more while Kat watched on helplessly, her heart about to burst with the strain, fear clutched in her throat.

The combatants faced one another on opposite sides of the pit, the bear bleeding profusely. Kat watched, appalled, when Alex ripped the pin from his mantle and removed the voluminous green wool from his back. On her knees, she clutched the grass in her fist. Alex spread his cape open before him and moved slowly towards the center of the pit.

When the bear came at him once more, Alex flung his mantle over the beast’s head. Blinded, its sense of smell hampered, the animal stopped in its tracks and began shaking the fabric away. Alex ran past him and towards Kat. “Here. Catch.”

Instinctively, Kat reached out, caught his sword and tossed it on the ground beside her.

She turned back and grabbed Alex’s outstretched hand. Rand grabbed his other hand and they tugged him up with all their strength. Alex’s black head emerged, followed by the rest of his considerably heavy body. He crawled forward and collapsed face down. Kat flopped down beside him, her face looking to heaven as she tried to catch her breath.

“That was a close call, my friend,” Rand said.

Breathing easier, Kat turned to Alex. “Do you fare well, Alex?”

He did not answer, nor move either she realized.

Alarmed, she rolled onto her knees and shook his shoulder. “Alex? Answer me!”

She looked up at Rand. His gaze was fearful. “Help me roll him over.” She pushed on Alex’s right shoulder while Rand tugged. “Careful!”

At last, they rolled Alex onto his back.

“Jesu,” Kat cursed. She crossed her chest, but not because of her blasphemous verbal slip. A pool of blood saturated the grass next to Alex. Her gaze moved to him. Alex’s tunic was slashed open. Five claw marks ran down his left shoulder and upper chest, blood oozing from his gouged flesh. Rose began to cry loudly.

“Will he live?”

Kat, her hands trembling, stared down at Alex on their bed. His chest and left shoulder were swathed in bandages, while light from the brazier and wall sconces flickered over his pale, still body. He had not regained consciousness yet. Indeed, he had not awoken when he was carried to the cart and placed in it, nor on the long interminable drive back to the palace as she cradled his head in her lap. Nor while the king’s physician treated his wound as she, Rand, and Rose watched on anxiously.

Closing a leather bag containing his instruments, powders, and glass vials of medicine, the gaunt physician turned to her, his brown eyes probing. “Though the wound is not extremely deep, he has lost a large amount of blood. And there is always the risk his wound will fester. But I have stopped the bleeding, which is good.”

Kat grimaced. She had some experience in treating wounds so the physician had merely confirmed what she already knew, but she had wanted reassurance.

The older man left instructions for preparing the poultice. “You will have to keep a close eye on him over the next few days. Change his dressings thrice a day and check his wound. Let me know if it begins to fester or his condition worsens. The king has asked me to personally oversee his recovery.”

Rose harrumphed after he left. “You would think that man believed he alone knew how to care for wounds. ’Tis women who have long treated and nursed their men’s injuries.”

Kat sat down on the bed beside Alex and brushed his hair off his dirt-begrimed forehead. He was warm to the touch, though not overly so. “I doubt the man intended to cast aspersions on your healing abilities, Rose.”

Rand smiled at Rose. “Well, I, for one, value your skills most highly, Rosie. The leg wound I incurred on Crusade never healed properly till you took me under your care. I shall forever be indebted to you.”

Her round cheeks flushed at his compliment, but her gaze darted away from direct eye contact with him. “You may thank Mother. She taught me everything I know.”

Rand bowed, acknowledging her subtle rebuff. “Next I see her, you may be sure I shall compliment her on her teaching skills. Now, if you will pardon me? There is something I need to attend to. I will return soon to check on Alex.” He nodded to them and departed.

Kat retrieved a linen cloth from the table beside the bed. Dipping it into the basin of cool water, she wrung it out and began to wipe the dirt and sweat from Alex’s face and neck. His face was pale and lined with pain even in sleep, the creases beside his mouth and on his forehead pronounced.

Rose sat down on the other side of the bed and took Alex’s hand in hers. She gazed down at him, a frown upon her face. “I know what you are thinking, Kat. But Rand knows I despise that name. Ever since I was a young girl, the man has constantly tried to nettle me one way or another.”

“I wonder why that is?” Kat asked.

But Rose missed her tone, shrugging. “Alex was so brave today. After all he has been through, I cannot believe he was nearly killed by a bear.”

“Aye, ’tis strange,” Kat murmured, remembering another close call, when she and Alex had almost been struck by an arrow.

A knock on the entry door interrupted her thoughts. Rose left to answer it and returned a moment later. “I must go to the queen. She is most anxious to learn of Alex’s condition. I will send Jenny to the kitchens to get more water and bandages, and everything you need to prepare the poultices.” She stood at the side of the bed and looked down at Alex lying so drawn and pale. “My brother is not going to die! He has just been returned to us and we shall see him through this difficult time together, Kat.”

Aye. God willing.

Then Rose leaned down and kissed Alex on his forehead. “I will return as soon as I can.”

After Rose left, Kat opened the shutters and tossed the bloody water out. She kept the shutters open for a moment to air out the stuffy room. Once she poured fresh water into the basin, Kat returned to the bed, drawing Alex’s bedcovering down to his waist. His upper chest and left shoulder were bound in bandages, but his bare arms and lower torso were coated with dried sweat and blood.

She started cleansing his arms and hands first. Then rinsing the cloth, she gently rubbed the blood from his stomach, and lower, where it had congealed in the hair on his groin.

Kat bit her lip as images of Alex flashed before her—Alex fearlessly jumping into the pit, drawing the bear’s deadly wrath onto him. Without a thought for his own life, he had come to her and Matthew’s rescue, giving them time to escape. And not once, but twice, it nearly cost him his life. She had felt so helpless as she watched Alex battle the bear, unable to aid him, knowing not what to do.

She dropped the cloth into the bloody water and stared at Alex. Reaching out, she gently laid her hand on his chest. His heartbeat was slow and steady, his chest barely rising and falling. But he lived.

Her hand trailed down his stomach next, feeling every indention, his sleek skin, so soft and resilient. A sob escaped and Kat pressed her fist to her mouth. If only it were truly so. That Alex was resilient enough to stave off contagion and recover completely.

Covering his chest with the sheet again, she rose and closed the shutters, tossed a few coals into the brazier, and pulled up a stool to the side of the bed. When she sat down, she reached for his hand and held it tight. And began to pray that Alex would be all right. That he would soon wake so she could tell him how deeply she still cared for him.

Rose was exhausted and sat down in the hall’s darkened alcove to catch her breath. The moon high, she had just relieved Kat for a spell and was returning to her pallet in the queen’s apartments. Two whole days had passed since Alex was attacked. Kat had assumed most of the burden of Alex’s care, refusing to leave his side. But Rose had had very little sleep, either. She was worried about her brother. His wound was healing nicely, but fever had set in.

Deep in thought, she nearly missed the quiet, furtive steps of the man who passed where she sat. But something about his sneaky behavior caught her attention. She held very still, unwilling to alert him to her presence, when suddenly, moonlight from a high round window shone on his blond hair. She recognized him immediately.

She waited until he started up the spiral stairs before she got up and followed him. ’Twas the same wing as Kat and Alex’s chambers, although on the opposite end. She did not trust the man, knew he was up to some mischief and she intended to discover what it was. She lifted her skirts and strode quietly up the steps in his wake.

He continued up the third flight, surprising her. She stopped on the landing below and waited, unsure what she should do next. Then a scratching sound echoed down the stairwell. Soon a door opened from above and a woman purred a warm throaty welcome. Revulsion roiled through Rose, for she recognized the woman’s voice and tone all too well.

“Are we alone?” Sir Stephen asked Lady Lydia.

Rose strained to hear the whispered response. “Aye, darling. I bribed my bed mates to find other accommodations for the night.” Then the door shut and Rose slumped against the central post.

Memories she had spent the last three years trying to put behind her came hurling back to haunt her. Sickened to her stomach, cold sweat dripped down her forehead as she fought them off. She told herself she had naught more to fear. But she knew she lied. Rose stood up and wiped her eyes. She had a beautiful son she loved, who needed her protection from his greedy, grasping cousin. And secrets from her past that if discovered, could destroy everything.

Lydia, after her initial passionate embrace, moved to the bedside table and poured Stephen some wine.
The fool
. Stephen always let his passion overrule his ambition. He had no idea she despised his touch; he thought her offering of wine a gracious gesture. Lydia smiled in satisfaction.

Of course, Sir Stephen believed her smile was for him. After taking a drink, he set his wine down and pulled her into his arms. She kissed him and let him fondle her breasts for a brief interval, then shoved him down on the bed. Capturing his hungry gaze, she pulled her sheer chemise slowly up her thighs and hips, hesitating before she revealed her golden delta.

“Drink up, darling. The wine will strengthen your blood. You shall need the extra fortitude for what I have in mind this night.”

Stephen gulped in anticipation, grabbed his wine chalice from the bedside table and drank till his cup was empty. Rewarding him, she slipped the chemise off. She stood boldly before him, naked except for her slippers and hose, the glow from the brazier gilding her body. His eyes glazed over and he reached out, groping for her breasts, but she shoved him back again.

“Christ, Lydia. I must have you now. ’Tis been too long since we last met like this.”

“You know the rules. Do not touch me unless I tell you to.” Her lips curled up in a seductive smile. “The anticipation will heighten our pleasure and you shall be thankful in the end.”

Stephen groaned and leaned back on his elbows, waiting.

She raised her left foot, exposing her pink petals, and pressed it against his chest. “Remove my hose.”

His eyes trained between her legs, his fingers fumbled when he removed her slipper, then garter.

Lydia purred, “Now, I would hear what you have learned of Alex’s condition.”

Occupied peeling her hose down, he answered by rote. “Sir Alex was wounded on the chest by the bear, but the wound appears to be healing. ’Tis the high fever he has contracted that may do him in.”

Lydia frowned, annoyed at the thought that he might die. She wanted Alex to suffer for his betrayal, but a quick death was not what she had planned. The fool had fallen in love with his pathetic wife, and she wanted him to feel the pain of that love being ripped away. Either at the hands of his wife’s death or…she had another plan that might achieve the goal of tearing the lovers apart.

“Your plan was too risky the other day. It depended too deeply on circumstances and luck. We must be very careful now to avoid suspicion.”

Stephen became surly. “I
was
very careful. You can be sure there are no witnesses to attest to my involvement.”

“What of the bear ward?”

Stephen smiled, his close-set brown eyes empty. “I have taken care of him.”

“Good.” She raised her right leg and he removed the other slipper and hose. Next, she stood back and cupped her breasts, drawing his eyes to their large dusky crowns. “Remove your clothes,” she commanded. She lifted her breasts up and squeezed them together. With her thumb and forefinger she squeezed and plucked her nipples to stinging hard points.

Stephen’s eyes never left her as he stripped off his tunic and undergarments in haste.

She propped her foot on the bed, giving him a view of the moist, tender flesh. “You may have a taste now.”

He groaned, grabbed her hips and buried his face between her legs. His manhood rose up hardened and erect.

“Are you sure Sir Luc has no idea of my involvement in your schemes?”

Sir Stephen drew back, blinking, his eyes unfocused. The drug she slipped into his wine was working; she had to hurry if she were to accomplish all she wanted this night. She crawled on top of the bed and straddled him, rubbing her dampened delta over his semi-erect member.

“Stephen?”

He stirred again. “Aye, Sir Luc has no idea of our plans, or my relationship with you. He is a convenient pawn. His obsession with the woman blinds him to all else.”

Lydia smiled a secret smile. “Good. He must never know or he could ruin everything.”

His patience at a limit, he growled, “Now, Lydia. I cannot wait a mom’ mo’,” his last words were garbled, but he grabbed her hips and she rose on her knees. Wanting the disgusting experience to end quickly, she took him inside her and plunged down. His hips heaved up several times and in a matter of moments, he spilled his seed with a guttural groan. He collapsed on the bed, his eyelids fluttering closed.

The belladonna finally took effect and he fell asleep. She rolled off of him and left the bed to the sound of his snores, then washed the sticky filth from her body. If she had her way, she would not copulate with him at all. But she did not want him to wake up with no memory of bedding her and become suspicious.

Feeling extremely unsatisfied, she knew she would have to give relief to the flesh she aroused earlier if she were to get any rest this night. First, however, she had to come up with a foolproof plan to achieve her revenge should Alex recover. Sir Stephen was right about one thing. Sir Luc
was
a convenient pawn. So now, she needed to decide how best to use him to her advantage without his knowledge of her involvement.

Hot, Kat had stripped down to her chemise. Alex’s fever had not abated. Indeed, it had worsened early this morning. Or yesterday morning, rather; now it was after matins.

Rose had returned from speaking with the queen three nights ago and prepared an infusion of henbane to help Alex sleep through the pain when he awakened. Since his fever set in, though, Kat had given him infusions of feverfew and yarrow, when he would cooperate. In and out of consciousness, there were times he thrashed about, rambling unintelligibly.

Now that he was restful for the moment, Kat bathed Alex in an attempt to cool his body and bring down his fever. She had performed the task numerous times, but ’twas not an onerous one. Try as she might to remain indifferent, she could not help but admire his masculine physique. He had a splendid body, his arm and leg muscles superbly built, a masterpiece of muscle, skin, and bone.

After rinsing the cloth in cool water again, she bathed around his manhood and drew the cloth down both his legs. The only sounds in the room were the rasp of the cloth and Alex’s uneven breathing.

Kat repeated the process over his whole body once more and then prepared a poultice for his wound. Using a pestle and mortar, she ground the dried comfrey leaves Jenny had brought from the kitchen into a fine paste. Doing the same with the yarrow, Kat added honey to the mixture and spread the cool poultice onto his wound to help heal it and soothe the pain.