Betrothal (Time Enough To Love) (16 page)

Thomas emerged from the gloom of the chamber and stood regarding him from the end of the bed, his face unreadable in the waning light of the candle. “I see you are monk no longer.”

Geoffrey smiled ruefully. “Nay, Thomas. I always feared I could not hold out against her charms for long.”

“She needs to return to her chamber. The banquet is all but done, and her proper bedfellow will be retiring soon. It would not bode well for Alyse’s bed to be empty when she returns.” Thomas gave him a sharp look. “Your absence was remarked upon.”

Geoffrey swore softly and placed an arm around his beloved. “I will tell her to feign an illness. I saw her to her room then came here for an early night.” He shot his friend a wary glance. “Even though we are to marry in but a week, I would not have her reputation ruined, though it be by my hand. You will say nothing?”

Thomas’s smile was lazy, indulgent. “Of course not, Geoffrey. You have guarded my transgressions these ten years. The least I can do is oblige you with this one.” He raised an eyebrow. “Was she everything you imagined?”

“More than I could ever imagine. God, so much more.” Geoffrey’s gaze lingered tenderly on the small figure beside him, the memory of her sweet body clasping his filling him with new ardor. No more until the wedding lest someone take note of their assignations. ’Twas too risky for Alyse. He sighed. “Will you go and keep Lady Anne occupied for a bit while I return Alyse to her chamber?”

Thomas grunted and shook his head. “If I must. Such a disagreeable creature. She would doubtless be improved by a good bedding.”

Geoffrey laughed softly. “I leave that to your discretion, Thomas. Do what you must, but keep her out of her bed for half an hour at least.”

With a quick salute and a chuckle, Thomas left.

Geoffrey pulled the cover back from Alyse’s face and pressed a kiss to her flushed cheek. “My love?” he whispered in her ear. “Alyse, you must wake, sweet.”

Her eyes fluttered open, and she started. A small gasp escaped her, and her face darkened as with a blush. She must have recalled the night’s events.

He rubbed her cheek gently with his thumb and smiled at the heat of it. “Much as I desire for you to stay with me, my love, you must be found in your own bed soon. We were missed in the
Hall tonight, and lest you be thought shameless, we must say you fell ill and I attended you to your room after we left the banquet.”

“How do you know we were missed, Geoffrey?” She frowned.

“Thomas told me.”

“Thomas? He saw me here?” She clutched the sheet to her, sweeping her gaze around the room as if he still lurked in the shadows.

He smoothed her hair, trying to soothe her. “Aye, sweet, but fear not. As I have held his confidences for him, he will hold mine. Thomas will say aught of what he saw. Indeed, he has gone to make sure Lady Anne comes not to your chamber before you are safely there. So you must make ready to go, my lady.”

Shortly, they both stood prepared to leave the chamber. He checked the room but found nothing amiss. Though there was no excuse to tarry longer—indeed ’twas dangerous to do so—still he did not want to let her go. Almost at the door, he drew her into his arms once more, thrilling to the feel of her body pressed against his. When he took her mouth in another searing kiss, she returned it with full passion. He longed to sweep her back to his bed, but they had to go. Too soon, he forced himself from her embrace, clasped her hand and led her into the hall.

Thank Christ they met no one on their way to her chamber. He stopped outside her door. “I must go now, love, but I will see you on the morrow.” At the threshold, he kissed her deeply, longing to rekindle their earlier heat. Soon. “Sweet love, tonight you have made me the happiest I have been in my life.”

Alyse smiled up at him, her eyes glazed with desire. “I also, my love. I would it had never ended. I miss your arms about me even now.”

“’Tis but a week until we are wed.”

“’Tis but a lifetime, you mean.”

He chuckled. “You speak true, little maid.”

She blushed and turned her head from him. “No longer a maid, Geoffrey.”

He lifted her and hugged her close to whisper in her ear. “You will always be my little maid.” One last lingering kiss and he murmured, “Goodnight, my love.”

Then he strode down the passage before it became impossible to go.

* * * *

Alyse watched until the shadows took him then lifted the latch and entered her chamber. The soreness between her legs as she moved served as a sharp reminder of the evening’s activities. She could not help the wide smile that crept over her face at the remembrance of their bodies intertwined. Wrapping her arms around her waist, Alyse twirled in place, her scarlet skirt belling out. She leaned her head back and laughter bubbled up.

“I suppose this means you’re no longer averse to marrying Sir Geoffrey, Alyse?”

Anne’s smug voice ripped the joy from Alyse’s heart. She stopped twirling so abruptly her skirts bunched around her ankles
, and she almost toppled over. Then she straightened and turned to stare at her chamber mate, dressed in her light chemise for bed, pale face and dark eyes making Alyse think of an apparition from the ghostly tales told around the fireplace in Merwyck.

“Wh…what do you mean?” The girl could know nothing of her and Geoffrey’s tryst.

“Humph. You think me a fool?” Anne deliberately ran her gaze up and down Alyse’s form.

At the gesture, Alyse could see herself, almost as if she looked out of Anne’s eyes. Her hair loose and flying around her shoulders
, her gown rumpled and in disarray, slipping off her shoulder where she had not taken time to fasten it properly before leaving Geoffrey’s chamber. She moistened her lips and felt them swollen from his passionate kisses.

Before she could think of any words to explain the disaster of her appearance, Anne turned on her bare heel and stalked off to bed.

Alyse stood alone in the middle of the chamber, the happiness of earlier drained away. ’Twould likely be all over the court by tomorrow evening. Her shoulders slumped.

Thank God her wedding was but a week away. The change in bedfellows could not come soon enough for her.

The night after the banquet, Alyse stood before the fire, brushing her hair in preparation for bed. One week from tomorrow would be her wedding day. Then she and Geoffrey would be together forever.

This week would seem an eternity, and for more reasons than one. Surprisingly, Anne had held her tongue regarding her disheveled appearance last night. At least, Alyse had heard no gossip featuring her and her beloved at the dinner this evening. Still, she feared it merely the calm before the storm.

A quiet knock sounded on the chamber door. She frowned at it then glanced at Anne, already asleep in the bed they shared. Who could want them at this hour? She grabbed the candle from the table and tiptoed to the door.

“Who is there?” she called softly through the stout wood.

“Geoffrey.”

“Geoffrey!” Alyse pulled the door open so violently the flame wavered.

She thrust it atop the mantle and launched herself into his arms without hesitation. She had scarcely glimpsed him all day, not even at dinner. Had not spoken to him since he had left her here last night. Hunger for his touch gnawed at her, like an empty belly appeased by only one food.

Geoffrey chuckled. He gathered her to his chest, his warmth soaking into her through her sheer chemise. After gently bumping the door closed, he strode into the room to stand exactly where she had been—in front of the fireplace. He released her slowly, letting her slide down him inch by incredible inch until her toes touched the floor. Before he could say a word, she pulled his mouth into a greedy kiss. His lips were the remedy she craved for an illness she did not wish to cure. He struggled not at all but moved to deepen the kiss, sending shivers of desire through her body.

Though he seemed as reluctant as she to break apart, he pulled his lips from hers. Breathless, she attempted to control herself.

I
am
a shameless wench whene’er he is near me.

Leaning a hand on the mantel, Geoffrey stared into her eyes, his bright and glittering in the scant light of the candle. When she finally broke from his gaze, the flickering flame revealed him dressed in riding boots and traveling cloak. Had the king ordered a midnight ride to test his warriors’ readiness?

“What brings you here so late, my love?” She spoke in hushed tones, mindful that her sleeping bedfellow could not be counted on to remain so. A glance at Anne assured her she and Geoffrey were safe for now. Her gaze traveled down to her own dishabille. Her gown gaped open, baring the smooth flesh of her breasts.

When she lifted her head, his gaze rested brazenly on her exposed chest. He nodded, a grin spreading over his face.

What must she look like! Her hair spilled wildly over her shoulders; her chemise pressed erratically against her body in several telling places, and pulled away in others. She shifted from one bare foot to the other on the chilly floor, clutching the neckline to her, more than a little aware of his appreciative gaze.

He did not answer but simply stared at her for what seemed an eternity, as if to remember each line of her face and form. She stayed silent, searching his eyes for some reason for his presence.

Finally, he sighed and drew her once again into his embrace. “My love, I come to say goodbye.”

Alyse jerked away as though he had become a pillar of fire.

“Goodbye!” Her voice rose in horror then sank to a whisper once more. “Wherefore do you leave me, my love? What…what has happened?”

Tears sprang to her eyes
, and she swayed toward him, her legs refusing to support her any longer. He could not leave her. They were to be married. Had the king ordered him to France? Back to the war? Oh, sweet Lord, he could be killed. Her heart froze and she began to shake.

“Alyse!” He scooped her up, bore her to a chair in the corner, and sat with her on his lap, her head cradled against his chest. “Shh, my love. Do not cry.” He stroked her hair. “’Tis only for a short time, I hope. I am summoned home this instant, for my elder brother, who is ill, has worsened
, and my father would have me near at hand.” His presence soothed her, but she could not stop the tears. “Hush, my little love. You will break my heart if you do not.”

Home. He traveled only to Longford. Her trembling lessened, and presently the tears ceased. She sat up to look at him, wiping at her cheeks with the back of her hand.

He smiled at her and brushed a tangled lock behind her ear. “There is aught else that would take me from you now, little maid, so close to our wedding day. ’Tis but a week from tomorrow, though it feels a lifetime.”

He leaned down to nuzzle her neck then kissed away the tears streaking her cheeks. From there he meandered toward her mouth. Alyse clung to him, returning his kisses with an abandon born of the sadness of their parting. He would leave, but only for a short while.

They tasted deeply of each other then he released her lips and leaned back, gazing lovingly at her in the soft glow of the candlelight.

“Oh, Geoffrey.” Her hands, clasped in her lap, were still numb with the shock. “I
am
sorry at the news of your brother’s illness. I will pray each day in the chapel for his recovery, and for your swift and safe return to me.” She nestled her head against his chest. “You frightened me deeply, my lord.”

He rubbed his cheek tenderly against her hair. “How so, little maid? You could see I had no hurts. Why would you fear?”

“I was afraid you were being sent back to the war.” She shuddered and his arms tightened around her. “And even though you are not, praise God, being parted from you is an agony now. ’Twill be all I can do to bear this sorrow.”

She sat up again, gazing into his eyes that he might know the truth. “I love you with so much of my being that I cannot imagine life without you. I could not bear to live without you.” Tears trickled down her face again. He pulled her head back to his chest, pressing her closer.

“My love. You have my promise I will return as soon as I am able. I pray that Roland will recover and you will be back in my arms before the week is out. I will sorely miss you too, little maid. You have laid a claim to my heart I would have believed nigh impossible a fortnight ago.” He kissed her forehead. “I will carry your lovely scent and sweet face in my mind, and our passion in my memory, until I hold you again in my arms.”

He dipped his head, meeting her lips in a soul-stealing kiss she would savor in the long days to come.

“And that kiss I will carry in my heart.” He spoke softly, against her ear.

Alyse moaned in despair, all too aware they dared go no further than this parting kiss. With her in his arms, he rose then gently set her down to stand before him. He had to leave, and her heart would break with it. A week was an eternity.

She followed him to the door, misery in every step. Unable to dispel the feeling that something would prevent his swift return, she wished with all her heart she could accompany him. Would that she could.

“Geoffrey, wait! I have something for you.”

He turned back at the door, perhaps expecting another kiss to send him off. Instead, she took the candle from the mantel and hurried toward the far side of the bedchamber. There was a way part of her
could
be with him. With shaking hands, she eased the trunk open, wincing at the creak of the leather hinges. If Anne woke up, she would have even more evidence of scandal to spread.

Ah, here ’tis
.

She closed the trunk and returned swiftly, her bare feet whispering across the smooth stones. Replacing the candle on the mantel, she turned to show him a small cloth bag of blue silk fastened to a gold chain.

“What is this, my love?”

“’Tis a token to take with you, to remind you of me and my love for you.” Alyse stood on tiptoe and Geoffrey bent his neck that she might slip the delicate chain over his head. “I made it to give you after our wedding, but I would have you take it now.”

Geoffrey scrutinized the small pouch, scarcely large enough to fill the center of his palm. He raised it to his nose and inhaled deeply. “Does it hold some of your lavender flowers, sweet?”

“Nay, my lord.” She leaned over his hand and sniffed. It did smell of lavender. “The bag is fashioned from a bit of silk taken from an old gown. The scent of lavender must cling to the fabric.”

Geoffrey smiled at her and cocked his head. “What does it contain then, sweet Alyse, that you would send with me?”

“A lock of my hair,” she answered proudly.

“Your hair!” Geoffrey’s horrified voice rose to the point that Lady Anne stirred in her sleep. “You cut your hair!”

“Shh! Geoffrey!” Alyse laid a hand on his arm and pulled him closer to the door. “’Twas only a tiny lock from the nape. See? You cannot tell it is gone.” She turned her head to show him that no trace of the missing hair was evident. She deftly opened the pouch and drew out a bundle of ebony hair, tied in a bit of blue silk ribbon. His eyes grew wide and he gulped audibly.

“I promise you ’tis a very small amount.” She stifled a giggle at his wild look then replaced the strands in the silk bag and closed it. “Tied by your sweetheart with an
amorette
, a true lover’s knot.” She kissed the bag. “And sealed with a kiss.”

Geoffrey crushed his lips to hers, searing her to the bone. “Now ’tis sealed with a kiss.” He took the pouch, pulled open the neck of his cotehardie and thrust it inside.

Alyse followed the little bag’s journey and caught a glimpse of his chest. Heat from the brief sight of his bare flesh— silky smooth skin she had caressed only last night—spread mercilessly through her body. Oh, for it to be last night, to be in his bed once more.

Geoffrey caught her look and grinned as though he followed her thoughts. “’Twill not be long, sweetheart, I vow.” He settled his garment back into place and laid his hand over the hidden pouch. “’Twill remain there, above my heart, ’til death do us part, my little love.” Geoffrey sighed and moved once again for the door. “But I fear I must truly take my leave of you now, Alyse. The horses are impatient, and if I must part from you I would have that pain behind me so I might look forward to our next meeting.” He placed one final deep kiss on her mouth then brushed his lips by her ear. “I love you, little maid.”

“And I you, Geoffrey. Godspeed, my love.” She made herself let go of his hand—one of the hardest things she had ever done—and stood resolute as he closed the door behind him.

Swallowing back the tears that threatened, she tried to think only of his parting words to her, savoring them in her mind. She hugged herself to remember the feel of his arms around her and fix the sensation in her memory. It would have to suffice until his return.

With a deep sigh, she retrieved the candle and slowly walked into the bedchamber. She sat on the bed and stared into the flame, not seeing the flickering light but the face of the man to whom she now belonged. To whom she would belong forever. And if they had forever, this short separation measured as a grain of sand in an hourglass.

In the flame’s glow, she saw herself, heavy with child, and Geoffrey standing in a field of wheat, two small figures following him as he strode toward her. A strange, but somehow comforting, vision of their life to come, mayhap.

They would have each other, and time enough to love, for the rest of their lives.

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