Stuart, Elizabeth (26 page)

"Grant
talks entirely too much."

"Grant?"

Alexander
smiled. Jonet felt a familiar warmth steal through her. She thought of the way
he had smiled at her, kissed her two nights ago. She wanted him to do it again.

He
reached out and caught her chin. His eyes moved over her leisurely,
approvingly. "Someone has a far defter hand with the shears than I. With
that hair and those clothes, you'd look at home in the first courts of
Europe."

Jonet's
hand went self-consciously to her hair. "Diana lent me her French maid.
It's still impossibly short, but better, I think."

Alexander
grinned. His eyes held a look that made her heart beat faster. "Decidedly
better." His fingers hovered alongside her cheek, then shifted to brush
through her curls once... then again more slowly. "You'll have all the
lads mad for you, take my word. I only wish I could be there to see it."
His smile twisted. "It'd be interesting to see just what you'd do about
it, lass."

Jonet
stared at him. "What do you mean?"

"It's
time you knew I'm making arrangements to get you to France. Albany will take
you in. I'll even go so far as to wager you'll become all the rage at the
French court."

"France?"
Her confusion was mounting. "But they just tried to kill you."

Alexander
leaned sideways, propping himself on one elbow. "You won't tell them
you've been with me, of course. The arrangements will be made, quite properly,
mind, through several English dignitaries. I've a friend in London who'll
sponsor you."

Jonet
plucked at a blade of grass, concentrating on shredding it into bits. It was
too much; she was going to lose both of them. "Are you telling me we won't
meet again?"

"God
only knows, but probably not. I've no inclination to set up residence in a
French prison."

She
stared at her bit of grass, willing the shock away. How like Alexander to tell
her like this. So much for dreams and the harsh realities. Alexander didn't
want her; he had Diana now. Robert would be tried, probably executed in the
next few weeks, and Alexander would be out of her life as well. He had hated
Robert and had tricked her into betraying him. And whatever purpose had moved
him to reshape her fate was obviously now at an end.

"And
when is all this to take place?" she asked, absurdly proud her voice didn't
waver.

"As
soon as we have safe conducts to travel in England. I'd have gotten them before
we came south if Murdoch hadn't surprised me."

"Robert
was right, wasn't he? You really are an English agent. Now he's to be executed
as a traitor and you come and go as you please. Sweet Mother of God, what a
world!"

Alexander's
voice was cool. "I wondered when we'd get around to Mure. Diana did it on
purpose, you know."

"Were
you aware his trial was set?"

"Yes."

"And
you weren't going to tell me!"

"I
was going to tell you, lass. If you recall, I'd promised to keep you
informed."

"And
you always keep your promises. That's why I'm Jonet Douglas now!"

Alexander
picked up a twig and began breaking it into bits. "I apologize, lass. I
was unavoidably detained. If I could have reached you sooner, I would have. You
know that."

Jonet
stared miserably away. She wanted to hate him. She wanted desperately to hate
him. "Do you deny you work for the English?"

"I
used to."

"And
now?"

"Now
I work for myself."

"Truer
words were never spoken. I'm only surprised you bothered with me."

His
eyes narrowed. "You were never much bother, lass. I've told you that
before."

"You
took me from the Douglases because it pleased you to best Murdoch. You told me
as much, told me you'd stop the wedding even if I had wanted to marry
Thomas."

Her
composure was slipping. Suddenly, she didn't care. "For God's sake, Alex,
why did you kiss me like you did that night at Whitestone? Why did you tell me
those lies? Did you forget you were playing a part? Are you so damned full of
deceit you forget what's real and what's not, or was that just your way of
calming me down, making me come along quietly? You knew what I wanted so you
gave it to me."

"You
said it, lass, not I."

She
slapped him then. Hard. "I'm so glad I amuse you, Lord Hepburn, so glad
you had your little games. Only think what a dull time you'd have had of it
else!"

The
pulse beat strongly, erratically, in the hollow of his throat. She sensed his
struggle for control, realized the moment he lost it.

"I
am anything but amused, lass," he said icily. "And the time for lies
just ended. You want answers, I'll give them to you. No lies, no evasions, just
the damned undecorated truth!"

His
arm snaked out and caught her wrist, dragging her down beside him. She twisted
her head away but his mouth covered hers, forcing her to yield to him. She
struggled to push him away, but he rolled them over, his lean, hard body
holding her firmly against the ground.

He
kissed her until she opened to him because there was no other choice. There was
nothing but the reality of his hard, sensual mouth possessing hers, of his lips
shaping and molding, his tongue playing an expert seducer's game.

With
a groan she gave in to him. She returned his kiss full measure, feeling the heat
flare between them, feeling a reckless surging in her blood despite all her
will to the contrary.

He
released her wrists and her arms curled about him. Alexander wanted her... and
she wanted him. Knowing him, hating him, he could still move her to this.

He
raised his head slowly. "You wanted the truth? Well, this is it, lass. We
both want it so badly we can taste it! You as well as I, though you don't even
know what you're wanting. Well, I know and it's a torment! It has been from the
moment I saw you." He drew a deep breath. "But this is all there
could ever be. Some cheap, stolen moments we'd both regret fat too soon. Thank
God I've the wit to realize it even if you don't!"

His
eyes held hers, narrowed and smoky with passion, his mouth was still wet from
her kiss. "I'm not quite the animal Mure would have you believe. I care
for you, and I can't quite bring myself to ruin you. Not for my pleasure. Not
even for my revenge."

She
lay for a moment looking up at him. Despite the passion, there was a tenderness
in his face that made her want to weep. "If you care, then don't send me
away. Oh, Alex,
please,
don't send me away!"

"What?
You'd prefer to stay here and be my mistress? The mistress of a man all
Scotland scorns, a man forced to work one country against another just to keep
his estates intact? My, what would Mure think of the proper lass he raised?
He'd roll over in his fresh grave, I assure you." His mouth curled
sardonically. "Or didn't you want to wait until then? Choose your time.
I'm entirely at your disposal, my love."

Jonet
stiffened. "You're an odd combination of kindness and cruelty, Alex. The
one only makes the other unendurable."

He
smiled grimly. "Yes, I thought that would bring you to your senses. How
swiftly the sweetness sours when heat is applied. Just so would our
relationship, Jonet. You said you couldn't forgive what I'd done. Knowing you,
you'd never forgive yourself either. Do you think it would get easier? Believe
me, it wouldn't, lass. The sweetness would turn bitter far too fast. You'd hate
me even more than you do now. And then where would you be? No enviable place, I
assure you."

He
sat up and turned away. "I'm sending you to France, Jonet, despite my own
wishes. Because it's the best I can do for you. Now we've had our bit of truth
and small comfort it'll be to both of us. I, for one, preferred the lies."

For
a moment Jonet lay staring at Alexander's rigid profile. Despite his calculated
cruelty just now, he cared for her. And he could help Robert. Somehow she'd
sensed that all along. If only he would forget his vengeance, if only he would
agree to help, they might still have it all.

She
sat up. "Tell me the truth, Alex. Could you get Robert out of Edinburgh if
you wanted?"

"Possibly."
A chill edged his voice. "If I wanted."

"Then
do it," she whispered. "If you care as you claim you do, then do it
for me. And I'll be anything to you that you name, for as long as you name.
I'll be your mistress, your wife... whatever you want me to be. And if I'm not
enough, consider the Maxwell lands. I'm a considerable heiress, Alex. Once
Angus is overthrown—"

"By
the time Angus is overthrown, Mure'll be long dead," Alexander
interrupted. He swung to his feet, gray eyes coldly expressionless. "Come
to me when it's me you want and not Mure. Otherwise, for Christ's sake, just
leave me alone!"

***

Two
miserable days went by, days Jonet spent alternately hating Alexander and
hating herself, days when she rehearsed one scathing condemnation after
another. She wanted to hurt him. Alternately and illogically, she wanted to
apologize.

Alexander
was cool and reserved and unfailingly polite. He spent his time riding and
hawking with Diana, and he took great care never to be alone with Jonet.

She
would have thought him completely untouched by an experience that had nearly
devastated her if she hadn't twice caught him staring. And his gaze had held
that hungry, hurting look that had surprised her so at the pool.

The
three of them took their meals together, and at first Jonet had felt awkward.
But Diana was an unconventional and amusing hostess, and Alexander passed the
time discussing the situations in England and France. By tacit agreement none
of them mentioned Robert Maxwell.

The
third day dawned warm with a heavy sultriness that increased by the hour. In
the afternoon Alexander and Diana rode out, but the air was oppressive and they
didn't stay long.

Jonet
occupied herself with her sewing, working alongside Diana's seamstress to
fashion several simple gowns from cloth unearthed in the storeroom. And then
Diana entered the room. "I see you're keeping yourself busy."

"Yes."
Jonet forced a smile. "I'd still like to pay for the cloth. If you won't
take my jewels, I'll send the money when I reach France."

Diana
shook her head. "You'll be needing your money, I imagine. It may take time
to get that annulment, though Alex believes with Albany backing you the
Douglases won't have a chance of blocking it. Even then he fears you'll have
difficulty getting anything out of Scotland. Things may be woefully thin for a
while."

Jonet
concentrated on her stitchery. "You've discussed the matter with Alex, I
take it."

"Certainly.
And there's a bit more news you should know. A messenger arrived from London.
Alexander's arrangements are being set in motion. You'll not have to wait here
much longer. I'll send more women to help with the sewing. We can't send you
off to London without a few fetching gowns, now can we?"

Jonet
rested the sewing in her lap. It was all she could do to continue smiling.
"I thank you, Lady Lynton. You've been more than generous. Perhaps some
day I can find a way to repay you."

But
when Diana left, Jonet rose and wandered restlessly through the castle. Stepton
was a bleak, border keep, obviously not one Diana frequented regularly. Yet the
pleasure-loving countess had left her mark.

There
were several rooms as luxurious as any town house in Edinburgh, and a
comfortable library stocked with volumes from England, France, even Italy.
Books were a luxury and Diana had only the best. She might as well enjoy them,
Jonet told herself. She wouldn't have the chance for long.

She
opened the door and Alexander glanced up. He was seated in a carved chair, a
beautifully illustrated manuscript spread on the table before him.

"I...
I'm sorry," she stammered, taken off guard. "I'll come back
later."

"No.
Come in, Jonet. I've something to tell you."

She
hesitated. It seemed absurdly important to tell him she hadn't planned this.
"I'd really no idea you were here. I didn't come looking, you know."

For
the first time in three days, he smiled at her. "I didn't suspect that you
did, lass."

He
closed the book and motioned for her to sit down. Jonet slid into a chair. Why
was it so difficult to face him alone when they'd met publicly for days?

"I
wanted to tell you that you'll be traveling to London soon," Alexander
began. "I've one more party to locate, then all will be in order. There's
an English diplomatic mission leaving for France at the end of the month. I've
arranged for you to travel with it."

His
voice droned on. Jonet watched his long fingers move restlessly against the
rich leather of the manuscript. He had such beautiful hands. She swallowed
hard. She'd always wanted him to play the lute for her again.

"...she's
rather influential in certain circles. Even has a place at court when she
likes." Jonet jerked her attention back to his words. "I know I can
trust her to take good care of you until you leave. I've a notion you'll like
her. Everyone does."