Jenna Jaxon - Time Enough to Love 03 (2 page)

Laughing, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pleased with his public attentions to her.

After their wedding, she and Thomas had journeyed to Knowlton’s Keep, giving the courtiers little chance to see them together after their marriage. And none at all since that dreadful morning on the
Phillipa
. God only knew what rumors had been running throughout the ship. So, much as she disliked being made a spectacle, better to be the topic of happy gossip than the subject of unkind speculation. Unfortunately, they were the last to leave, thus few could mark their contentment.

As they moved across the dock, Alyse spied several odd objects scattered around the boxes and kegs along the quayside.

“What are those black lumps among the baggage, Thomas?”

He peered at them briefly. “I believe they are dead rats, my lady.” She shuddered and clutched his neck closer. “A normal sight for the docks, I assure you. I am surprised you have seen no live ones.”

Rats were common enough at the castle, but she had ever disliked them.

Thomas set her on her feet and opened the carriage door.

“I thought I would share the last ride to the castle with you, Thomas.” Geoffrey Longford held out his hand for Alyse.

* * * *

Over the past days, Geoffrey had wondered how Alyse would react to him after their short tryst last week. This day he had gotten an extremely unsatisfactory answer.

Early on in his marriage, he had
understood they would be thrown together in company and had steeled himself to mask the deep love he still bore the woman he would ever call wife in his heart. That task had almost been beyond him, resulting in their indiscretion in the bow last week—a few fleeting moments he would cherish always. Yet those stolen moments had severed his wild hope of a courtly love affair. She had made it clear she would not betray Thomas.

Betrayal. He had not thought of it thus. Thomas had never borne any love for Alyse, save that of a friend and champion. The man had often tarried in the beds of married women, so the value he placed on the vows of matrimony could not be great. And ’twas rumored his marriage to Alyse had never been consummated. Did that not signal his disinterest in her? She might have been Thomas’s wife, aye, yet in that one way she remained his beloved alone. He had actually believed Thomas would not care overmuch what they did. An almost deadly
error on his part.

And as a result of that blunder, Alyse would have nothing to do with him.

She snatched her hand back and plumped down abruptly opposite him on the cushioned seat. Thomas entered the conveyance, shot her a curious look, and sat beside her. Resisting the urge to slam his fist into the carriage wall, Geoffrey motioned to the driver, and they set off on the brief ride to the castle.

“Has our baggage been sent ahead, Geoffrey?” Thomas asked as they started down the docks.

“Aye, as far as I know, it has all gone ahead.” Thank Christ Thomas saw fit to speak civilly to him. “Have you been assigned your chamber yet?” He spoke to Thomas, but his gaze strayed to Alyse as he waited for her bid in the conversation.

Her silence continued as she peered out the window.

She should at least speak to him politely when in company. Their state of affairs had seemingly been resolved, and her husband bore him little ill will. Did she not know he had no intention of repeating their indiscretion? His true feelings for Alyse had changed not at all; however, he would die before revealing that to anyone.

He believed that he could, in time, resign himself to his marriage with Mary. She was a
quiet woman, overwhelmed and fearful of him in the days after their wedding, yet she had served him dutifully, with strict obedience. Not what he had wished for in married life…but mayhap if he stopped expecting her to be Alyse, he would be happier with his wife. Their circumstances of late had actually improved, owing to Mary’s raised spirits over her elevated status in the princess’s household. An elevation that had come at Alyse’s expense.

Had she grieved the loss of her status? She had borne much in the past month. As had they all. He glanced at Thomas, who took her hand and laced their fingers together absently, a deft movement that spoke of the intimate connection between the two.

Geoffrey suppressed a sigh. He understood, though he had not been told, that Alyse was now Thomas’s wife in fact as well as name. The change in Thomas almost immediately after his confinement with Alyse began spoke loudly of it. His friend had become tranquil, even lighthearted. Where previously there had been great tension, now only…contentment. What that heralded sent anguish through him as though devils stabbed him with red-hot pitchforks. Attempts to persuade himself ’twas only the natural course of events provided cold comfort at best.

But he still longed to speak with Alyse. Just to hear her voice.

“No, Geoffrey,” Thomas replied, after a sharp look at Alyse, who did not seem to be attending the conversation. “We know naught of our quarters yet.”

“I believe I can help you, for they are quite close to mine. I will show you where they are as soon as we reach the palace.” Geoffrey glanced at Alyse, still wishing to engage her in the conversation. “All the ladies-in-waiting have been housed close to the princess. Indeed, I believe you are to be housed in the corridor closest to Princess Joanna. Between her apartments and ours.”

Alyse continued to look out the windows as though enraptured by the narrow streets of Bordeaux. She remained silent, though the fine skin around her eyes tightened with strain.

It was becoming a battle of wills that he would win, by the rood! He would make her speak to him. Mayhap a bolder tack was needed.

“Lady Alyse.” He looked squarely at her, addressing her alone for the first time since leaving her on the bow of the ship eight days before. “How do you find the port town of Bordeaux? You seem to have been entranced with it since we left the pier.”

He cocked his head and offered her his most charming smile, awaiting a response to his direct address. She had to speak to him now, and he would savor every word of the victory.

* * * *

“There were dead rats on the dock.”

“Alyse!” Thomas’s outraged tone brought censure for her bald statement, but she cared not.

Geoffrey had trapped her into speaking with him or risk being rude and bringing about the displeasure of her husband. Common sense warned her to avoid all contact, including conversation, with Geoffrey Longford. Since he had made that impossible in this instance, she chose her own bold method of bringing an end to the conversation
: make it as unpleasant as possible.

“Well, ’tis true, Thomas. We passed them on the way to the carriage.”

Geoffrey laughed, apparently determined not to take offense. “Aye, lady, you will find them living and dead all over the town, not just at the quay.” Turning to Thomas, he added, “There were fewer of them at Port St. Croix than at St. Lucie. ’Tis why Sir Robert decided to land the nobles here. Where the men-at-arms and the long bowmen came ashore, the dead rats were almost knee-deep in places.”

“Lord have mercy!” Alyse shuddered, sudden pity arising for the soldiers.

“They have had a plague of them recently here in Bordeaux, I am told.” Geoffrey’s gaze lingered on her face, a quiet satisfaction alight in the blue depths. “Brought into port aboard foreign ships. You would probably have to fire the entire town to get rid of them.”

Alyse trembled, not only at the thought of the unsavory animals running through the town, but at the look in Geoffrey’s eyes that made her stomach clench and her womanhood throb. She drew closer to Thomas, a potent misery stealing through her for the first time in days.

The men continued to talk, but she paid them no heed, caught in a private hell from which she had believed herself safe. She would have to be vigilant to ensure neither she nor Thomas were burned by the fire that had been kindled months ago between her and Geoffrey Longford. She could not trust any of them now—neither her husband to keep his jealousy in check, nor Geoffrey to cease his pursuit of her, nor herself to keep him at bay.

She had believed she loved Thomas enough to lay the ghost of Geoffrey to rest in their bed. But from the moment she had seen him on deck this morning, her beloved still, she knew deep in her very core that Geoffrey had been right: it would never be over between them until they were dead and in the tomb.

This realization frightened her beyond all reason. It was as though she had been two people in one body all day, each belonging to a different man. As long as they lived that would never change. She played with fire each time she met with or spoke to Geoffrey, and one day the banked embers would flame up and consume them both.

There would be hell to pay one way or the other. The only question was how much damage would be wrought. Immortal souls hung in the balance, waiting for Judgment Day.

The long banquet hall in the royal palace of Bordeaux sparkled with candlelight and laughter as Princess Joanna’s welcoming feast for her courtiers proceeded in full force. The great fireplaces at either end gave off additional light, illuminating the costly tapestries and coats of arms lining the walls. From the lower dais, Alyse stared at those ornaments, a bleak reminder of the princess’s superior status within King Edward’s royal family and the power she wielded over her courtiers. Power Alyse keenly lacked tonight.

Food had been masterfully prepared in the French style
, and rich wine from the local vineyards flowed freely. Under Geoffrey’s careful direction, preparations had been executed with expert organization, making this first banquet a triumph for Princess Joanna.

And more than a small trial for Alyse.

She picked idly at the delicious beef in wine sauce and sipped the robust Bordeaux, without really tasting either. The princess, her ladies-in-waiting, and their husbands sat in places of honor on the dais. The rest of the retinue lined the walls of the chamber. Alyse eyed the company and their positions and supposed she should be grateful to be included on the platform at all. Evidently, Joanna had not quite forgiven her and Thomas, despite their long confinement.

She had been
greatly dismayed to discover Lady Mary Longford to the right of the princess, in
her
accustomed place at table, while she had been sent down a place. Even worse, this particular placement resulted in Lady Mary’s husband sitting directly beside her. When she had discovered Geoffrey to be her dinner partner, it was all she could do not to bolt from the room.

Now she sat, trying to converse with Thomas, who was more of a mind to lean around her to talk to Geoffrey. Thomas had been officially assigned to Geoffrey’s staff, and working closely together this past week, the men’s friendship had renewed itself. Another unforeseen trial. She had counted on their animosity to help keep them apart.

She sighed and cut her eyes toward Geoffrey, starkly handsome in a tunic of dark blue. When he laughed at one of Thomas’s jests, a pang of longing shot through her like a bowman’s arrow to her heart. Alyse fought to tamp down these feelings; they could lead to nothing good.

Thomas tapped her shoulder
, and she jumped, roused from her reverie. “My lady, you have certainly wandered far afield in your thoughts tonight. I have been speaking to you for some minutes, and I swear you have scarce heard a word.” The reproach in his voice smote her. Come what may, she would not be discourteous to her husband.

“I beg pardon, my lord. I was woolgathering
, I fear.” She sent him a warm smile. “Pray, what would you tell me, my love?”

“
I was remarking on the new musicians, just arrived at court, according to Geoffrey. They are about to begin the first set, and I asked for your hand in the dance.”

Her spirits rebounded. “You know I will ever crave you as my partner. Especially
as ’tis only lately you have seen fit to claim me in a dance,” she teased.

He chuckled and shook his head. “Madam, I vow you will ever remind me that I danced with you but once ere our wedding night. Although,” his voice dropped to a husky whisper for her ears only, “I have claimed you often enough in a dance of a different sort.”

Her face heated as a vision of their bodies tangling in their bed came vividly to mind. “Aye, my lord, you have partnered me well when no one else can see. I am also happy to partner you in a display
all
can witness.” She thrilled at the touch of his silken lips on her hand and sighed. Would that he were able to take her back to their apartment now, kiss every inch of her body, and make her forget her troubling thoughts.

A glance at his face showed his warm brown eyes darkened with desire. He turned her hand over and pressed a passionate kiss to her palm. Her core throbbed
, and she swallowed with difficulty. The man made pleasure a torture when they had no way to satisfy their hunger.

With a regretful sigh, he rose. “You will have to make do with the attentions I can grant you before the court, my lady,” he murmured as the musicians began a sprightly rhythm. “For now, at least.” He pulled her to her feet and whisked her off to take their places for a rigorous
estampie
.

The fast and complex dance did much to ease her
anxiety, for it demanded her full attention. After many minutes of intricate figures, the dance ended with Alyse gasping for breath. Thomas guided her to the side, where they formed lines for a stately
pavanne
that allowed her to recover. He seemed unaffected by the strenuous exercise, the wretch. However, he did seem to be trying to make up for his previous lack of attention to her at court dances.

The musicians changed to a
ronde
, and Alyse decided to devil her husband even further. She drew him into the circle of courtiers, pressing her breast so intimately against his side that he swore under his breath.

“You torture me, madam!” he said as they drew close again to
revolve around each other.

“How so, sir? Have I stepped on your feet?” She giggled as their arms
intertwined.

“Nay, wench.
’Tis other parts of me you inflame, with little hope of respite to be gained at present.”

She laughed as they circled again. “Then what do you suggest to remedy your condition?” Cocking her head, she let her eyes promise him the world.

Thomas groaned then caught her to him. “Trust me, sweet, you will find out ere the night is done.”

Tingles of excitement shot down her arms.

The dance ended, and Thomas excused himself to visit the convenience outside. Alyse moved back to the dais and sat down, grateful to rest at last. She lifted her cup and drank thirstily. Geoffrey and Mary were still dancing, so she took advantage and leaned over to remark to the princess on the cleverness of the court musicians. ’Twould do no harm to remind Her Highness she was an attentive courtier, and indeed they chatted amiably for some minutes about the music. Surely, she would find her way back into the princess’s favor now.

The music ceased
, and she looked eagerly about for her husband’s return. She would delight in tormenting him in another dance. She spied Thomas, who had just reentered the hall, talking to his best friend. That friendship would be the end of them, she feared. A foreboding made her shiver. Her alarm increased when Thomas took Mary’s hand and led her onto the floor. Geoffrey continued back to the table, his eyes fastened on her. Her heart thudded painfully, and she clenched her jaw against a curse.

She rose, intent on fleeing back to their chamber. The princess…
She must needs make an excuse to her, lest she lose what little position she now held.

Too late
.

Even as she opened her mouth to
profess a sudden indisposition, Geoffrey appeared beside her, smiling his devastating smile and announcing, “Lady Alyse, I would claim you for a dance. As your husband has swept my wife away, I thought it only fitting that I return measure for measure.”

Sweet Mary, just as I feared
.

She could not partner him. Memories of their dance at the tournament banquet—and all that had followed—washed through her, bringing a bitter taste to her mouth.

Alarm seized her, and she sat down abruptly on her bench. “I cry your pardon, Sir Geoffrey, but I am fatigued.” Despite her attempt to keep her tone courteous, the words came out short, caustic.

Geoffrey’s eyes widened
, and he glanced at Princess Joanna, who narrowed hers.

Alyse swallowed a curse. Any progress she had made to regain the princess’s favor died with that look. She hung her head, steeling herself for more censure.

Geoffrey sat down beside her, and reached for his wine. His nearness sent a tremor of alarm coursing through her. ’Twas nonsense, this feeling of dread. She was a married woman with the willpower to resist any lingering feelings she might have for Sir Geoffrey. He was only a man she had once cared for and now held merely as a friend. She loved Thomas.

Nothing will change that.

She
glanced toward Geoffrey to find him appraising her, his intense gaze searching her face, piercing her to her soul.

Princess Joanna leaned toward Geoffrey. “Has Lady Alyse’s fatigue yet diminished, Sir Geoffrey? She did not look particularly weary while she was dancing with Lord Braeton.” The young girl’s arch tone made Alyse wince. Oh, aye, Joanna was still displeased with her.

Geoffrey shrugged and sipped his wine. “Mayhap she now favors only her husband’s charms as a dancer, Highness, and would seek to spare me comparison to his skill.” He paused, shifted in his seat. “I had hoped we might remain friends, even though our closer relationship could not be pursued. It may be that our unfortunate encounter aboard the
Phillipa
has persuaded her to avoid my company completely. A shame, as Thomas and I have mended our friendship most cordially.”

Alyse clenched her fist around the goblet of wine. They spoke as though she were miles way instead of right beside them. Could they not see her distress? Did Geoffrey not feel the swift current that ran between them still? Or had he no regard save friendship for her now? The thought sobered her. Was the passion that flared each time she beheld him her burden alone?

Princess Joanna glanced at Alyse then back at Geoffrey. “Perhaps she is afraid to have you as friend, Sir Geoffrey. Or mayhap it saddens her to remember your betrothal, although she seems quite happy in her marriage to Lord Braeton.”

Alyse stared at her husband on the dance floor, willing herself to ignore the conversation though their voices had not dropped to disguise their words. They wanted her to hear, of course.

“Should that be the case, Princess, I hold out hope that her sadness will pass and we may yet be affable toward each other, for I did well enjoy Lady Alyse’s gentle wit and companionship when we were betrothed.” Geoffrey twirled his goblet and looked over at her, a charming smile on his lips. The wretch.

Inwardly fuming, she longed to shake sense into the tall knight at her side. She had no compunction about speaking to Geoffrey if it ended there. In her heart, however, she feared they tread dangerous waters. All was fine on the surface
, where she professed to be happily married to Thomas. Yet the dark waters beneath harbored desires that, when brought to light, would be difficult to submerge. And dear God, ’twould take very little to make those desires rise.

She sat beside him, lost in these musings
, when Thomas appeared, accompanying Mary back to the table, both flushed with their exertions.

“Geoffrey,” Thomas began, a note of reproach in his voice
, as he assisted Mary to her seat. “You were supposed to bring Alyse down to the floor that we could enjoy the dance together. Why did you not join us?”

Geoffrey raised an eyebrow and nodded toward Alyse. “
The lady was fatigued.”

Alyse closed her eyes to avoid the deepening frown on Thomas’s face.

“Is this true, madam?” His voice no longer held that silky tone that set her aflame. Instead, it reverberated, terse and caustic. Very unlike Thomas. “You refused Geoffrey because you were fatigued? Why did you not tell me when we were on the floor? I would not have bade my friend ask you had I known he would be so rebuffed.” The displeasure in his tone made her swallow hard. The last thing she wanted was to create a spectacle, but ’twas too late. She glanced around, appalled to find the attention of the court focused on her and her husband. How could she remedy this apparent affront?

“
My lord, I meant no slight toward Sir Geoffrey. I merely wished to fortify myself with the good wine of Bordeaux before attempting another dance. I did not think you would be so displeased, especially as you were occupied with Lady Mary.” She offered Thomas her most charming smile, searching his eyes, trying to coax the dark look from his face. “Indeed, I am now refreshed, and more than willing to oblige you with another dance.” She turned fully toward Thomas, putting her back to Geoffrey, hoping to God he would hold his tongue and not offer again to partner her.

Thomas nodded and raised her hand to his lips. His lazy smile appeared
, and she calmed. “Aye, my lady, I would have you once again grace this hall with your presence on the floor.” He squeezed her hand then placed it on Geoffrey’s arm. “But, I would have you dance with our friend, for in honoring him you honor me as well.”

Alyse turned stricken eyes to her husband
, prompting him to reassure her. “Alyse, be easy, my sweet. ’Tis well that you should dance with Geoffrey.” He lowered his voice. “You should be seen in his company else the court will believe we yet have a quarrel between us. Fear not that I will be displeased in this, for that is past. I have faith in you, my love. So, do my bidding and make merry with my friend, for my sake.”

’
Twas commanded then that she dance with Geoffrey. Thomas’s reasoning was sound. To put the court’s gossiping tongues to rest, she should seem to hold no animosity toward Geoffrey or his wife. If they witnessed her laughing and jesting or dancing with him, nothing would be thought of them at all. No matter how imprudent she knew those actions to be. And, as much as she wished to obey Thomas, in truth, this dance boded ill for them.