Siege Of the Heart (17 page)

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Authors: Elise Cyr

BOOK: Siege Of the Heart
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“Ride out with me. Give yourself time to recover.”

Isabel arched an eyebrow. “Do I not look recovered?” She faced him, waiting for his appraisal. She loathed the way her body trembled as his stare moved over her with deliberate slowness.

“To some, but not to those who know you.”

“And I suppose you think you know me?” She scoffed, but even she could hear how feeble it sounded.

He gave her a small smile. “I at least know how much you enjoy riding your horse.”

A moment of indecision passed over her as her responsibilities warred with her sensibilities. Alexandre took her hesitation for an answer and drew her outside. He steered her toward the stables before she could protest. “It is a glorious day, is it not?”

Isabel surveyed the crisp blue sky with its smattering of clouds the texture of unspun sheep’s wool. The sun shone brightly and tempered the gusty wind.

Alexandre led her into the stables. Their mounts stood waiting, already saddled. Isabel stiffened and looked askance at him. He had planned this ahead of time. Her fingers curled at her sides. How dare he presume she would comply with any of his suggestions?

She took a step back, poised to return to the hall, but Hardwin whinnied, drawing her gaze. Spoiled creature, she thought fondly as she patted his neck. She would ride for Hardwin’s sake, not Alexandre’s. Without a look at the meddling knight, she mounted and urged her horse out of the stables.

She let Hardwin have his head, and they wandered for a long while. She hardly cared Alexandre and his steed accompanied them. Her heart and mind were so full of feeling, she was only barely aware of what surrounded her.

They reached the apex of a small hill looking out across the muddy fields, her father’s fortress in the distance. Isabel reined her horse to a stop. Both she and Alexandre stared out across the countryside, still dotted with melting swaths of snow, in a strangely companionable silence.

Isabel let out a soft sigh before turning to Alexandre. “I must apologize for my behavior last night. The report…upset me. I would ask you not make mention of the incident to anyone.”

“You have my word, but you should not feel shamed by what happened.”

“But I do, as it is just another weapon you can wield against me,” she muttered to herself.

“I beg your pardon?”

Guilt pricked her, for she was being unfair. “What I should say is, you have my thanks. For sending out inquiries and for sending Matilde to me.” The words felt woolly on her tongue, but they needed to be said.

“There is no need to thank me. I only hope you do not resent my interference.”

A wry laugh escaped her. “Resent your interference? There is naught I can do to stop it.”

He frowned. “Do I take it then my lady finally accepts my presence?”

Isabel looked away. “Only until we reach London.” It would not be long now. After the feast, there would be nothing to keep her here.

“I do not think you realize how important it is for us to get along.”

“What more do you want from me?”

“I want you to trust me. I am your friend in all this, and I could be more if you would let me.”

Isabel flinched at his words, and heat crept up her cheeks.

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I do not want to fight anymore.”

“What makes you think I do?”

“Need I list the examples?”


Non
. And I do trust you. I trust you are a determined, honorable man. And for that, I respect you.”

“Yet you are still afraid of me.”

Isabel squared her shoulders. “I am not afraid.”

“Yes, you are. You feel threatened by me. You are scared I could release all the emotion you keep locked up inside.”


Non
!”

“Yes. This is where all our hostility begins and ends. You are scared of losing control.”

“I do not have to listen to this.” She tugged at the reins and directed her horse away from him.

“You cannot ignore me. I will not let you.” He commanded his temperamental mount to stay with hers.

She glared at him, at the determined set of his face. “Is that so?”

She brought her open palm down hard on the hindquarters of Alexandre’s horse. Unused to such treatment outside of battle, the animal reared up, its front hooves flailing in the air. While Alexandre struggled to regain control, Isabel spurred her mount down the trail the way they had come.

* * * *

Her heart kicked against her chest as Alexandre’s horse thundered past her hiding place. She needed to get herself under control before she returned to the castle.

The way he had looked at her was too similar to the last time they were alone. The kiss they shared after fighting the Welsh. She shuddered, remembering the way he had touched her, his hands warm, and the undeniable heat in his eyes. She was afraid. Afraid of what she felt. Afraid that Alex felt it, too.

Not Alex, but Alexandre, she scolded herself. To call him Alex was to concede the way she felt about him. It signaled she was softening toward him—something that could not happen. Yet she feared she was losing command, not just of her household but of herself—to him.

The day grew late, and she was chilled through. Certain Alexandre had not doubled back in his search for her, she urged Hardwin home.

In the quiet of the stables, she sent the stable boy away and removed her horse’s saddle and blankets and proceeded to groom him. She almost dropped the comb when the stall door shut with a soft snap.

Alexandre. She should have known he would not be so easily discouraged.

“How did you know I—”

“You dismissed the stable boy. You always do.”

A shiver stole through her. He had been watching her more carefully than she had realized.

He fell silent and picked up a comb to help her. Every so often, their hands brushed against one another as they worked over the horse, sending a frisson of awareness through Isabel each time. She forced herself to look Alexandre in the face, but he avoided her gaze and concentrated on the strokes of the comb.

Confusion welled up inside her. This man… Her hands stilled and fell to her sides. Alexandre came to a stop, watching her as he set the combs aside.

Hardwin tossed his mane in annoyance as Alexandre stepped around the horse and moved closer to Isabel, his blue eyes smoldering with an intensity that was not quite anger. She had never seen him look that way before. Apprehension slithered through her body. She involuntarily stepped back from him and found herself flat against the wooden panels of the stall.

“Thank you for your help, Alexandre. Now if you will excuse me…” She inwardly cursed the quaver in her voice.

“No, Isabel.” He continued to stare at her, his look asking questions she did not understand. “I am not going to let you go so easily. Not yet.”

She cast her gaze to the straw-strewn dirt floor. “I did not think you would.”

He closed the gap between them. “I would never hurt you, Isabel. You do realize that?”

“I would not let you.”

“Then why are you afraid?”

She stared up at him, not knowing what to say.

He placed his hands on the wall behind her and leaned in. “I wonder what you would do,” he whispered in her ear, “if I did this?” He moved his lips over her forehead with feather-light pressure.

“Please stop.” She braced herself against the wooden boards. Rough splinters dug into her palms.

“Or this?” He brushed his lips over her closed eyelids.


Non
.”

He paused, his lips hovering over her earlobe. “Why not, Isabel?”

“Because…” She hated how easily he could make her tremble.

“Tell me.”

Isabel glared at him. “Because I do not want you to touch me.”

“Liar,” Alex scoffed, the earlier tenderness no match for his self-confidence.

Before she could think better of it, she struck him across the face. Hard. He caught her hand in a viselike grip. Isabel willed herself not to cry out in pain. The slap echoed through the stables as they stared at one another, the only other sound the soft whicker of horses.

She slipped her other hand to her seax, but Alex anticipated her. He grabbed her arm and forced her against the stall once more. Alex’s outraged gaze bored into hers. Isabel could do nothing but stare back, surprised by her loss of control, surprised by her desire.

In the next instant, Alex pressed his brutal lips to hers. The full impact of the kiss broke upon her and made her forget her protests. Then she kissed back. Alex groaned and gathered her up in his arms, pressed her against his long body. Wildfire spread down her limbs. He forced her mouth open, his lips hot and demanding against hers, allowing him better access.

Isabel shivered as Alex stroked the inside of her mouth with his tongue. She clung to his shoulders. He slid his hands down her back and explored her hips, his touch consuming her senses. She arched into him, enjoying the hardness of his body against hers.

The strange feelings Alex evoked overwhelmed her ability to think. She was certain of only one thing. She wanted more.

Too soon, Alex pulled back and set her away from him with his hands on her waist. “Do you still deny it, my lady?” he asked in a ragged voice. He watched her with hooded eyes as she tried to catch her breath. Her hair had tumbled down to her shoulders, thanks to his errant hands. Her face was hot with shame even though she gasped with newly awakened passion.


Non
,” she whispered. She desperately tried to ignore the way his features relaxed in triumph.


Bon
.” He pulled her close again, a predatory gleam in his eyes.

“But this cannot continue.” Isabel squirmed out of his grasp and held up her hands, palms facing out. She took a deep breath, trying to dismiss the way her body ached for his touch. “Since you have more experience in these matters, I would ask that you refrain from demonstrating your affection for me as it has become apparent I am unable to deny you.”

“I cannot pretend there is nothing between us,” he said, a hint of danger in his voice.

“And what am I supposed to believe when I see a mere sword-for-hire attempting to seduce a thane’s daughter?”

Alex’s handsome face tightened with fury. “It is not like that, Isabel.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“Because I am much more to you and to William than a borrowed sword, and you know it.” He reached out to her.

“Do not touch me. I ask you to recall your own words. My family and I are to reach London unharmed. I ask you to remember your promise.” Her voice grew stronger. “I appeal to your sense of honor.”

“Curse you, Isabel Dumont!” He slammed his fist into the side of the stall. Hardwin snorted in surprise. Alex flexed his hand and took a steadying breath. “You may come to regret what you have said today once we reach London, my lady. I will not touch you for now, Isabel, but I will not leave you alone.”

 

 

12

 

The evening meal was not going well.

With the household ban on speaking French now lifted, Isabel witnessed an uneasy truce gradually developing between her men and Alexandre’s. However a handful of the older servants and men-at-arms remained particularly standoffish.

Kendrick, too, had not warmed to their Norman visitors. He was more withdrawn than usual, and it pained Isabel to think their interrupted conversation the other day the cause. She had been unable to speak with him privately since. Should she pretend he had not asked for her hand, that she was still ignorant of the love he felt for her? It might make things easier for both of them.

Then there was Alexandre’s young and cocksure shield bearer. His constant scowl made his dislike of being around so many Englishmen clear, but from what she could tell, he did not hesitate to follow any of Alexandre’s orders. For everyone else, the language difference between the Normans and her own men was a source of constant amusement. Laughter often floated toward her from the lower trenchers.

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