Falling for Her Captor (11 page)

Chapter Twelve

H
ugh had not wanted to attend a banquet. He could think of fifty places he would rather be. But since he had returned to the citadel he’d had no choice but to attend. He had placed himself as far from Stephen as his status would allow without questions being asked and tongues wagging. He ignored the laughter around him while he reflected that he would have stayed away another day if he had known this was planned.

He could not truly say that he’d sensed Aline’s arrival. There had been a slight shift in the atmosphere, a whisper of curiosity that rippled round the room. He’d glanced up from his plate, wondering what this new source of interest was, and she’d been there on the arm of the chamberlain.

Since their first meeting Hugh had seen Aline asleep, unconscious, wet and half dressed. He could have described every contour of her face, the precise colour of the hair at the nape of her neck, the arch of her back as she stretched awake. Now a stranger stood before him. She stood poised and elegant in the light of the braziers. By torchlight her pale hair shone golden. Shadows from the great fireplace moved across her body, enticingly highlighting the curves of her slender figure.

Hugh paused, goblet halfway raised to his mouth. With disbelief he recognised the circlet of silver she wore in her hair. Disgust washed over him at the implication of what he saw. It had been less than a week and Aline was already wearing the coronet of the Duchess and parading in front of the court. No messenger could have travelled to Leavingham and back in that time. How many days had passed before she had accepted Stephen’s proposition? Jealousy fought with contempt to stab his heart.

He reached for the flagon to refill his goblet but his hand stilled as he saw Aline looking straight at him. In an instant he saw the surprise on her face change to wretchedness. Aline looked away as a herald dressed in the red and gold livery of Roxholm appeared at her side, seeming to shrink into herself at his approach. Hugh looked closer at her, now she was not watching him, and saw with distress that she was trembling. She held herself steady through strength of will alone; her eyes were shadowed with dark circles and her hands were knotted into fists at her sides.

Hugh had been mistaken: she was no willing participant in this!

His anger dissolved in an all-consuming urge to protect her. He opened his mouth to call to her, knowing as he did that she would never hear him over the music and noise. He watched as Lorrimer led her towards Stephen and she moved out of his sight. He was too late to tell her he had misunderstood, and too late to tell her he was sorry.

* * *

‘…is she?’

‘No one I’ve ever…’

‘…the Duke did not inform the guests…’

Scraps of conversation drifted to Aline’s ears as she allowed herself to be escorted to where Stephen sat as though in a dream. She had no interest in the talk her presence was provoking. She had seen the way Hugh had looked at her and was bewildered by his hostility. Her heart had leaped at seeing him there, so why had he looked at her with such an expression? Was it—and this thought made her head reel—that he believed she
welcomed
the Duke’s attentions?

She took her place next to Stephen at the table, inclining her head in greeting as faces blurred into one. Automatically she smiled as Stephen explained that she had arrived recently as his guest but been too fatigued to leave her chambers, his eyes steely and daring her to contradict him.

The jugglers finished and were replaced by a trio of musicians. The doors were flung open again and a procession of servants appeared. Aline shook her head at the two servants who stopped in front of her, their tray laden with roast meats. The smell and sight of the pig’s head glistening with fat surrounded by pheasants made her nauseous in the overbearing heat of the hall. She stared down at the trencher of bread in front of her, afraid that if she did not leave soon she was in danger of passing out.

‘Lady Aline, you are not eating!’ Stephen breathed in her ear.

A shiver ran down her spine. Gone was the charming man she had spent the evening with and here again was the Duke who had ordered her to be incarcerated in the dungeon.

‘I was not prepared for such company. Why did you not tell me of this before?’ she asked him in a whisper.

‘Why? Because I thought you might refuse to be present.’

‘I feel ill. I wish to return to my room,’ Aline said, pushing her chair back.

Stephen took hold of her wrist and lifted it from the table, his fingers digging into her flesh painfully. He spoke in an undertone, giving his most charming smile. ‘You will not leave. I will not be defied or humiliated in front of my subjects.’

‘You’re hurting me,’ Aline gasped. She tried to pull away but the Duke tightened his grip.

‘This is nothing to what I
could
do. You will sit here and you will smile and be as charming as you have been reared to be. After all, these men and women will be your subjects when you are High Lady. If you make me the subject of any scandal I will hurt you more than you can imagine. Do you understand me?’

Aline nodded and Stephen released his hold. The blood rushed back and she cradled her sore wrist in misery.

Somehow Aline forced herself to get through the evening. The training Stephen had so rightly assumed she had received came into play as never before. She nibbled at a bowl of leeks and smiled as the grey-haired man to her right refilled her wine goblet. She laughed and applauded along with the other guests as a flock of birds circled the room when the crust was lifted from a dish.

Stephen showed his approval of her behaviour by graciously passing her dainty pastries filled with honeyed nuts. She was the perfect lady. But all the while her eyes searched the room for the one person she wished to speak to but could not.

She caught a glimpse of Hugh once, deep in conversation. His hair had been cut to jaw-length since she had last seen him, and his beard had been neatly trimmed, making him look younger. His companion nodded in Aline’s direction and she looked away quickly, before Hugh turned, unwilling to see hatred in his eyes as before.

The meal ended and the musicians ceased to play.

Stephen slammed his goblet onto the table. ‘We should dance!’ he shouted, and applause filled the room.

He reached out his hand to Aline, his jaw set and his eyes narrowed. Reluctantly she took his hand and walked to the centre of the room, her eyes cast down. A hush descended over the hall.

‘A quadrille for Lady Aline,’ Stephen announced.

The musicians took up their instruments once more and began to play a simple melody. Stephen took Aline’s hands and together they began to circle the room, the familiar steps of the dance coming back to her as they moved together. She caught a glimpse of Hugh again, deep in conversation with a young woman dressed in scarlet. The woman put her hand to his arm and dipped her head coyly. Hugh smiled. Aline frowned, then caught herself in the act. What was it to her who he talked to?

Hugh gave no indication of noticing her, though she thought she saw him glance in her direction as Stephen lifted and spun her. Stephen didn’t look away from her face, however, and she dared not stare too obviously.

The musicians increased their tempo and other couples joined Aline and Stephen on the floor. The dance became more intricate now: the pairs were weaving between each other, now in one circle, now in two, now in lines, the men lifting the women in sweeping arcs before moving speedily on to a new partner. After her long confinement Aline leaped high and swung wildly, laughing and lost in the dance—until she looked into the face of her newest partner.

A half smile played upon Hugh’s lips as he bowed to her. His blue eyes met her own. Familiar arms encircled her waist and lifted her off her feet, spun her. They passed shoulder to shoulder, their hands brushing fleetingly as they circled round, their eyes never breaking away. Then he was gone. He passed on to the next in the line so quickly she could not quite believe he had been there.

Her new partner took her hand, but she was distracted and fumbled the steps. Only because the dance was so familiar did she manage to regain her balance and complete the movement. Eventually the dancers were reunited with their original partners and the music came to a stop. Aline curtseyed to Stephen, who bowed in return, then clapped his hands together to signal another dance to begin.

The dancers formed a large circle and began to move around the room, whirling faster and faster before pairing off. Aline searched in vain for Hugh as she wove her way through the lines but he was no longer there.

The music went on longer and became more involved. The enthusiasm of the dancers began to diminish but still Stephen demanded faster and faster pieces, dancing more and more wildly.

Finally, as Aline felt she was close to collapse, Stephen threw back his head, his eyes wild, and roared, ‘Enough!’

The musicians stopped abruptly and Stephen swept from the hall, leaving the dancers in confusion. Steadily people began to disperse, until the hall was almost empty save for the kitchen skivvies wearily clearing the tables. Aline stood alone in the centre of the room, uncertain where to go until a guard appeared at her side. She turned to follow him, but as she reached the door a shadow fell across the doorway and a voice stopped her in her tracks.

‘Soldier, you can stand down from your duty tonight. I will see to it that the lady is delivered safely to her quarters.’

The guard wavered uncertainly. ‘My orders were very clear. I don’t think…’

‘If anyone questions you I will see to it that you are not punished, but take this for your trouble.’

Aline had barely moments to compose herself before a coin changed hands and the figure waved the soldier away with a nod of his head.

Alone with the man she had never expected to see again, Aline lifted her head to greet the speaker warily. ‘Good evening, Sir Hugh,’ she said, ‘Can I help you?’

* * *

Hugh’s scalp prickled as he heard the chill in Aline’s tone. ‘I understand why you’re angry with me,’ he said.

‘You left,’ Aline said, her voice low and controlled. ‘You promised to protect me and you left.’

‘As I told you, I thought it prudent to obey the Duke. How would it have helped you if I were also imprisoned, or worse?’ Hugh asked. ‘You have seen what kind of man Duke Stephen is—though maybe it is another side of his character you are more familiar with.’

‘What are you implying, Sir Hugh?’ Aline asked sharply.

Some self-destructive part of him took over and he ranted more at himself than at Aline. ‘When I left you were a prisoner. I return to find you dining with him in front of the assembled court and dancing in his arms! And will you please stop calling me sir?’

He spun on his heels and slammed his palms in frustration against the heavy doors. The servants paused their work in alarm. A hand touched his shoulder gently and he turned. Aline was standing closer than he’d expected and jumped back slightly as he faced her. She was close enough still that he could feel her breath on his cheek.

Hugh looked around at the servants, who were staring openly at them. With a glare he sent them back to work and, taking Aline’s arm, led her into the moonlit courtyard.

Aline’s face remained rigid. ‘Why did you return?’ she asked.

Because I love you
. The thought rose unbidden and passed unsaid.

‘Because I have my duties as Captain.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘And because whatever decision you make I wish to be here.’

At his side Aline gave a strangled sob and pulled her arm from his.

‘What decision
I
make? I have no control over my future. I had no wish to be present tonight!’ She paused and her eyes narrowed. ‘Did you think I had given him my hand? Or my heart?’

Hugh put his hand to Aline’s hair and touched the coronet gently, ignoring the sensations that this gesture of intimacy sent through him.

‘Do you realise the significance of what you wear?’ he asked.

Aline shook her head, confusion clouding her eyes.

‘This was worn by Stephen’s mother, and every duchess before her,’ he explained. ‘I saw you tonight and I believed…’ His voice died away as Aline gave a moan and covered her face with her hands.

Her distress was too much to endure and Hugh’s resistance crumpled. He reached out, as he had wanted to for so long, and pulled Aline to his chest. She struggled half-heartedly, turning her head away from him. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close against his chest until the sobs racking her frame subsided. Her hair smelled of rosemary and he closed his eyes and bowed his head, the better to catch the sharp scent of the herb. Clouds passed in front of the moon, granting them some privacy, and they stood motionless in the night.

Chapter Thirteen

A
line could not tell how much time passed, only that there was nowhere else she wanted to be. The sky cleared and moonlight fell once more on the courtyard, breaking the spell. Hugh’s arms tightened and pulled her closer fleetingly before he released her from his embrace. She shivered in the night air after the warmth of his body.

‘And now I must fulfil my obligation and return you to your room.’ Hugh sighed. ‘Do you know where he has housed you?’ he asked, sudden anger changing his voice.

Aline shook her head, not understanding. Hugh pointed to the window beneath her own. ‘Those are
my
chambers,’ he fumed. ‘That bastard has housed you almost within my reach! No doubt he derives pleasure from the knowledge.’

The venom in his voice made Aline jump. ‘Duncan told me you grew up as brothers. Why does your cousin hate you so much?’ she asked when she could trust her voice to be steady. ‘Tell me why you remain loyal to someone who bears you such malice?’

Hugh pursed his lips. ‘There are many things in my life I am ashamed of. Please do not ask this of me.’

Aline stepped back and folded her arms, fixing Hugh with a stern gaze. ‘I
do
ask it of you! I do not understand the Duke, and he scares me, yet I am in all likelihood to be married to him. If you have it in your power to make sense of him, then please,’ she begged, ‘tell me.’

Hugh ran his fingers through his hair, then rubbed his eyes. ‘Very well—but not here. We should go inside the tower, where you can be warmer. Oh, don’t fear,’ he said with a smile, ‘not my room or yours. I would not make you a part of such an indiscretion. But there are public rooms where we can sit in comfort before you take a chill.’

He offered her his arm and she took it, ignoring the flutter in her stomach that his touch caused her. Aline dreaded what revelation she was about to hear, but she couldn’t help but be amused that Hugh would not risk her reputation by sitting with her behind closed doors when not minutes before he had held her so closely where anyone might see.

* * *

Hugh led Aline to the first floor and through the small dining hall, where a handful of late revellers sat drinking. He escorted her to a deep window seat and summoned an attendant to bring wine. He stared out of the window unspeaking. Knowing he could put it off no longer, he drank deeply from his cup then turned to face Aline, his expression grim.

‘The reasons for my hatred and loyalty are inextricably connected,’ Hugh said reluctantly.

He paused and balanced his goblet precariously on the arm of his chair. He surreptitiously watched Aline from the corner of his eye. She sat perched on the edge of her seat, as though she was about to flee, her wine cup clutched tightly between her hands. Her cheeks were hollow and dark smudges ringed her eyes, but there were no signs of the imagined maltreatments that had woken Hugh nightly in a cold sweat.

She had felt so enticing in his arms, her frame hinting at such wonderful possibilities that he ached to hold her again. The thought of Stephen touching her was almost too much to bear. She was right: he owed her this explanation, though he had hoped his past would remain a secret from her. Now that it seemed her future lay with Stephen it would make no difference what she thought of him. Even so, he found that he desperately wanted her good opinion.

He took another deep drink and began again. ‘You have no doubt seen how changeable in temperament Stephen can be?’

Aline nodded. A shadow crossed her face, enhancing the fragility of her looks. Hugh could not begin to understand the torment she had endured. She began to speak, but Hugh held up his hand to silence her, knowing that unless he poured his tale out soon the courage would leave him.

‘He is subject to great variation of temper and sudden outbursts,’ Hugh continued. ‘I believe—and the physicians believe—it is due to my actions when I was young…’

* * *

Aline listened as Hugh told her of the events she had partly heard about from Duncan. Despite the hopes of all around them, Hugh and Stephen had grown apart as they grew older. Stephen had displayed a cruel streak, and his favourite pastime had been to taunt Hugh for the low rank of his father and for his position at court. Hugh, for his part, had countered by parading his superior wit and the advantage five years gave him in combat.

To Aline, the tale of childhood rivalry was familiar, but unremarkable.

‘I know something of your past,’ she broke in. ‘Duncan explained to me how you lost your position. But I don’t understand why you feel so beholden to him.’

Hugh stood and paced restlessly about the small room, his lithe body and the suggestion of tensed muscles reminding Aline of an animal, caged against its will. Moving to the window, he rested his back against the stone ledge and continued his tale.

‘I was sixteen when the rivalry between us came to a head. Winter was almost over, and after long months of enforced closeness everyone had become intolerant of company. When the first clear day came my uncle suggested a hunt. There was a young lady I had developed an infatuation for and I was eager to impress her.’

Hugh’s face softened at the memory. Discomforted to feel a ripple of envy run through her, Aline found she could not meet his eyes.

‘I hoped to win her favour, and Stephen noticed my ambitions. He was determined to outride and outhunt me at every opportunity that day,’ Hugh continued. ‘When he found he could not, he resorted to goading me, pointing out that a nobleman would never let his daughter marry the son of a servant. In a moment of rage I set my hawk on him.’

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes as he relived the moment.

‘What happened?’ Aline prompted softly.

‘Stephen tried to shield his face. He slipped from his horse and was struck on the head by its hooves. He lay close to death for six days, then in a stupor for more than a full turn of the moon. No one knew if he would survive. When he eventually recovered he was…changed. He’d fly into sudden fits of laughter and became quick to anger at the slightest provocation. The physicians said the blows had altered his mind.’

‘But you didn’t mean to cause such harm!’ Aline exclaimed.

Hugh gave her a smile so sad she felt her heart might break.

‘So my uncle said. Rufus knew Stephen would never be the Duke he should be. He understood our rivalry and laid the means of recompense at my feet. When I reached manhood he elected me Captain of the Guard. On his deathbed I vowed that I would serve Roxholm and protect Stephen from himself as best I can. So I am bound to him and must do my best to moderate his excesses. Stephen knows, and he hates me for it.’

Aline hugged her chest, overwhelmed with pity for the man in front of her. It seemed characteristic of Hugh’s nature that he would allow himself to carry this guilt for so long.

‘But Stephen was cruel even before that day! How do you know this would not have been his way whatever happened?’ she said. ‘You cannot live your life atoning for one act, and Stephen has other advisors. You are not the only one who can curb his actions.’

Hugh shook his head. ‘That might have been the case once, but now his inconstant side is growing stronger. He refused to listen to caution about bringing you here, though it could set us at war with every other province.’

‘And now I must become his bride,’ Aline said bitterly, ‘and the responsibility to try and temper his desires will fall on
my
shoulders.’

* * *

Hugh’s head jerked sharply, Aline’s words striking him more deeply than a knife to his heart. He reached for Aline’s hand and pressed it tightly. ‘There has been no answer from Leavingham yet,’ he said. ‘You may yet be spared.’

‘Maybe…’ Aline shrugged, sounding doubtful. ‘My grandfather might see this as the easiest way to solve the issue of my marriage. I have refused so many proposals already.’

Hugh could not help but ask the question that tugged at his stomach. ‘Has anyone…? Did none of the petitioners manage to capture your heart?’

‘My heart? No,’ Aline said bitterly, drawing her hand away. ‘None of them even tried. Once I became heir my chance of marrying for love vanished. I’ve always known that I have to do what is right for the good of my province.’ A wistful look came into her eyes. ‘I kept hoping that if I continued to refuse suitors then the next one might be someone I could care for, but love is for ballads and tales for children. I was foolish to ever dream of more.’

She walked to the window and stood beside Hugh, staring out at the sea beyond the castle walls. He wondered what she would do if he drew her into his arms as he so longed to do. An insipid purple tinge was beginning to break the blackness of the horizon. Hugh realised with surprise that they had talked almost until dawn. He could not keep her to himself any longer.

He drew a dozen slow breaths until, feeling calmer, he turned and offered his arm to Aline.

‘Come, Lady Aline. Let me return you to your chamber. This conversation has been hard for both of us and I would not see you any more fatigued or distressed.’

Aline hesitated, then took his arm formally. Hugh was desperate to draw her closer to his side. They climbed the stairs of the tower in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Outside Aline’s chamber a guard sat slumped on a stool, snoring gently. Hugh put his foot out and knocked the stool from underneath the sleeping guard.

‘Wake up and let the lady into her chamber,’ he commanded.

The soldier rubbed his eyes blearily, then jerked upright and gave a salute. He pulled a large iron key down from a nail stuck high into the doorframe and fumbled with the lock.

Aline dropped Hugh’s arm and fixed him with a serious look. ‘Rufus is dead. How long will you live your life for Roxholm?’ she asked. ‘Do you not have your own dreams to follow?’

Hugh smiled and laughed quietly, more to himself than Aline. ‘Ah, Aline. Such dreams as I have do not hold up a good mirror to my sense of honour. How many of us can truly say we are ever free to follow our hearts?’

‘Who, indeed?’ Aline murmured.

To his great surprise she leaned towards him and brushed her lips lightly across his cheek.

‘Good night, Hugh,’ she said, and slipped inside her chamber before he could respond.

Hugh watched while the door was locked, then walked back to his own rooms, grinning madly, his hand to his face as Aline’s kiss burrowed into his memory and his heart.

* * *

Aline awoke late the next day. The fire was unlit and the room was shadowy and cold. She shivered as a chill ran across her shoulders and, slipping a fur-trimmed mantle over her thin chemise, walked to the window. The sky was heavy, with ominous-looking clouds hiding all trace of the sun, as though the weather had decided to sympathise with her mood.

She was determined to confront Stephen about his deception. Her eyes fell on the coronet and her indignation flooded back. Hugh had believed that her wearing it signalled degree of intimacy with the Duke that simply did not exist. The rest of the court must have assumed the same. Her dignity would not allow her to be the subject of such scandal.

If what Hugh said were true then angering Stephen would almost certainly hold risks, but she had to return it to him, whatever the chance of his displeasure. She climbed from the bed and hammered loudly on the door, bouncing impatiently from foot to foot as she waited for it to be unlocked. The door swung open to reveal an unexpected figure.

‘Jack!’ Aline exclaimed with pleasure. ‘Oh, it’s good to see a familiar face!’

The boy reddened at her welcome. ‘Lady Aline, I’m pleased to see you again. Duncan and I were so worried when we heard what had happened when you arrived at the citadel. I’ve been trying to get put on duty here but somehow it never happened. Then this morning the duty lists were changed and here I am.’

Aline smiled inwardly, wondering how much the reappearance of Hugh in the citadel had to do with that. She explained to Jack that she wanted an audience with the Duke, ignoring the look of panic that crossed his face.

‘I’ll go now, my lady,’ Jack said, then, glancing down at her attire, he added, ‘Um, should I find a maid to help you dress?’

Aline nodded her agreement and Jack left. Moments later there was a knock at the door. Jack stood there again, a small leather-bound book in his hand.

‘I almost forgot—somebody asked me to give you this,’ he said, and held it out. He pushed the slim book into her hands with a twitch of the eye that might have been an attempted wink.

Aline turned the slim volume over curiously, then opened it. It was a book of poetry, well-thumbed and dog-eared. She flipped through the pages with a lump in her throat.

Knight Harald

The Maid of Kempe

The Heart’s Honour

All well-known verses she recognised from her youth.

Love is for ballads and tales for children
. Aline’s cheeks flamed as she remembered the impulsive kiss she had given Hugh. No letter needed to accompany this gift for her to guess who had sent it.

‘Thank you, Jack,’ she said. ‘If you should see that somebody please will you thank him from me, and tell him I accept it with pleasure.’

The boy bowed and left. Aline waited until she heard the key turn in the lock, then walked to the window seat and started to read. Today would bring a reckoning, she felt sure of it, and even Hugh’s gift could not prevent Aline’s stomach from twisting into knots.

She tried to focus on the words, but the tales of courtship and thwarted love sent her thoughts down paths she would rather ignore. She stared out of the window at the darkening clouds until Kate appeared, bearing a fresh tray of food. A fire soon warmed the room and Aline’s spirits lifted slightly.

She chose her warmest dress of blue wool, adding her own necklace to the outfit, and as Kate braided Aline’s hair, Aline patiently answered the maid’s questions about the night before.

Kate was entranced by the account, going into raptures of excitement about Aline dancing with the Duke. Aline wanted to scream at the maid’s foolishness. How could she think being forced to perform like a puppet in a mummers’ show was anything less than torture? She bit her tongue, however; Kate was young enough to believe any man as handsome as Stephen must be an agreeable partner.