Vow of Seduction (8 page)

But because of his abandonment, he had seriously damaged her ability to trust him. By keeping her slightly unsteady and off balance, he might be able to slip under her guard long enough to prove to her he was trustworthy. And with trust, hopefully, would come love.

Kat moved to the chest at the foot of the bed, opened the lid and pulled out a braided girdle.

Though she did not trust him, Alex knew she still wanted him, still desired him. The explosive passion they felt for one another in the days leading up to their wedding, and on the night they consummated their vows, had not burned out in the intervening years. He had seen it tonight in her glittering eyes, sensed it shimmer along her trembling flesh, and tasted it on her wine-sweetened lips. Every breath, touch, and taste proclaimed her need.

The same need that echoed resoundingly within him.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Kat asked, knotting the long end of the girdle at her waist after buckling it.

Startled, unaware of what his face might have revealed, Alex asked, “Like what?”

“Like…oh, never mind,” she said, veiling the expression in her eyes with a sweep of her eyelids. She stepped away from him abruptly, changing the subject. “So is everything settled? Do we have a bargain?”

“Almost.” Alex went into the other room to fetch his sword Rand had brought back from Crusade after Alex’s capture. Kat followed him, her boldly arched eyebrow raised in inquiry. Alex withdrew the sword from its scabbard. The scrape of steel reverberated throughout the quiet room. He held the beautiful but lethal weapon up for his inspection; firelight glinted off the silver blade and the ruby embedded in the pommel glowed with an ethereal light.

Holding the grip, Alex pointed the blade to the heavens. His eyes never leaving her gaze, he vowed, “With everything that I am, I will earn your forgiveness and prove to you I am worthy of being your husband, as God intended. But if on the feast of St. Barnabas, you still wish to revoke our marriage, I vow to declare our marriage unconsummated and see our marriage annulled. I swear to this before God almighty.”

Alex handed Kat the sword, hilt first. She clutched the grip expertly before her chest and copying his actions, she said, “I vow before God almighty, to be amenable to your courtship, I will not find ways to sabotage your efforts, and will seriously consider making ours a true marriage. At the end of the month, you will have my answer, whether aye or nay. This I vow, with all my heart.”

Alex took the sword from Kat, their hands touching briefly. “Our bargain is sealed. ’Tis too late should you wish to turn back now.”

Kat smoothed her hands down her skirts, her voice carefully neutral. “We are in agreement, then. I shall hold you to our bargain as well.”

“Aye. Come the feast of St. Barnabas, you shall have a choice. And I pray you choose me.” He held his left arm out. “We should proceed to dinner. We do not wish to be late.”

After a slight hesitation, Kat placed her hand on his arm, the enormity of her decision like a sudden weight on her shoulders. His muscles flexed at her touch, strong and vital. Warmth radiated into her hand, up the length of her arm. Alex looked down at their joined flesh, and smiled, a wolfish smile that did little to reassure.

She would not change a thing, though. Indeed, Alex was a fool if he believed he could persuade her to give him a second chance. When the month was over, she would be free to fulfill her dream of marrying a man who truly loved her and start a family of her own.

She could not wait to return home where she felt needed and respected. The people of Montclair depended upon her for their livelihood, and she missed the fertile fields and rolling meadows of the river valley where her home resided.

Luc was a good man. He respected her knowledge of estate management and had no desire to challenge her authority in the running of Montclair. On the other hand, she did not doubt that Alex would claim his right of lordship and run things the way he saw fit. Arrogant and controlling, he would not deign to consult her or ask her opinion, despite the fact she had made Montclair even more prosperous in the six years since he left.

Snaring her gaze, the dark blue depths of his eyes challenged her. “Let the battle begin,” he said, and then led her out of their chambers, leaving her to ponder his cryptic words.

Alex and Kat entered White Hall, a lesser hall used for everyday use. Colorful tapestries adorned the walls and voices raised in conversation echoed off the vaulted ceiling. They had barely taken a step into the long, spacious room when a man stopped in front of Alex.

Alex recognized Lord William Calvert immediately. The baron was no more than medium height, but was built like a bull, his broad chest all muscle. He wore his blond hair short and his lips were etched in a perpetual scowl, giving him the appearance of a petulant child.

Beside Alex, Kat stiffened.

“Lord Calvert.” Alex did not smile. He had never liked the man, personally. And Lord Calvert despised him in return.

In the last days of the Barons’ War, Lord Calvert had refused to surrender. Alex had been with the troops sent to lay siege to the baron’s castle and capture him. The siege lasted three months, but just before the Royalist forces razed the castle, Alex spied two men fleeing the stronghold in peasant garb. Their furtive behavior alerted Alex and he gave chase. He soon discovered that it was none other than Lord Calvert and his heir, who was about the same age as Alex. They had fought and were soon captured, but in the process, Alex had fatally wounded Lord Calvert’s son.

Lord Calvert smiled. “Sir Alex. I am so glad to see you safely returned to us. You were sorely missed by all who know you.” His words and smile were obviously insincere.

Alex responded in kind. “You honor me with your heartfelt words, Calvert.”

The baron’s lips pulled down in a sneer. “That aside, your wife owes me an apology. And my son, too,” he said snidely.

Surprised, Alex turned to Kat, who glared at Lord Calvert with contempt. “Your son is a coward and a bully, Lord Calvert. I owe neither him, nor you, an apology.”

Calvert reddened and his chest puffed up at the insult. Alex wondered what event had precipitated such an outburst.

“You assaulted my son without provocation and broke his wrist. I demand recompense.”

“I didn’t touch your son. He fell from a tree. And he did not break his wrist, he merely sprained it.”

Calvert sputtered. “He fell from a tree because you threw a dagger at him!”

At his belligerent tone, heads turned, drawing unwanted attention. Alex had long thought Calvert a blundering fool, but wondered now if he had underestimated the man. After all, the baron had sworn to avenge his son’s death.

About to send the baron on his way, Kat retorted before Alex could. Her chin shot up at an obstinate angle. “I did not throw the dagger at him. I’m a very skilled marksman and threw the dagger above him as a deterrent. Your son meant to attack a boy half his size who had climbed up into a tree to seek refuge from his tormentors. I don’t apologize to bullies. Now, be gone from my sight.”

Calvert, his face a bright shade of vermilion, took a threatening step forward and hissed. “No woman talks to me that way. I am a baron of this realm and demand respect.” His furious gaze swung to Alex. “Have you no control over your woman?”

Alex swore, his hand on his sword in warning. “You insult my wife. She is free to speak her mind as she likes. As to the apology you say she owes you, I agree…” Kat gasped and Lord Calvert smiled smugly, until Alex’s next words registered, “with my wife. If Kat says she saw your son bullying another boy, I believe her. And a father who condones such behavior in his son deserves no respect. I suggest you leave as my lady wife bid you.”

The baron’s brown eyes narrowed menacingly. “Your wife is no lady. She is a shameless whore!”

Alex reached out in a flash of rage, clutched Lord Calvert’s neck in his fist and shoved him against the wall. His face carved with fury, Alex squeezed his fingers tighter around the baron’s throat. Calvert gasped for breath, both his hands clawing at Alex’s hand. The baron’s face grew redder and redder. Rand pushed through the crowd and came to his side.

“Alex, Edward forgave your outburst in the chapel, but he will not condone murder. Think what you do.”

Reason returned at the sound of Rand’s voice. Alex relaxed his grip on the baron’s throat, but did not release him. The older man gulped in a deep breath.

“Apologize to my wife.” Alex’s voice sliced through the room. “Now. Unless you wish to settle this matter at Tothill Fields.”

Calvert shook his head, his lips compressed. The apology clearly galled him. “I apologize, Lady Katherine. Forgive my insult.”

Kat raised her jaw in stiff affront. “I accept your apology,” she replied, her voice cool.

Alex released the man and stepped back. The blond baron walked away, his back stiff with wounded pride. Alex decided it would be prudent to keep a close watch on the disgruntled baron. Calvert could very well be the traitor Alex sought.

Frowning, his gaze sought Kat. Eyes of silver shone with surprise and satisfaction. “Are you all right, Kat?”

“Aye. Lord Calvert is a braggart and a fool. His foul insults can’t harm me.”

Alex agreed. Not for the first time, Lord Calvert had revealed himself to be a coward. Like the day he scuttled away from his besieged castle in disguise, leaving his retainers to the mercy of the conquering Royalist forces. Nay. The baron would not fight him honorably in the open, man to man. He would hide in the shadows, like a black beetle, plotting Alex’s death behind the scenes, hiring any scoundrel to do what he was too cowardly to do. As he had hired Scarface to do? Alex wondered. Was Lord Calvert the traitor he sought?

Indeed, the first threat to his life was shortly after the death of the man’s older son. Lord Calvert also had gone on Crusade, giving him both motive and opportunity to see Alex dead. Aye, the baron bore watching for the nonce.

The dining hall was overly warm with the press of over a hundred men and women seated at cloth-covered tables, talking and laughing while they dined on an abundance of food and wine. Alex, meanwhile, was disturbingly aware of Kat sitting next to him on the raised dais. The clinking of silver tableware and drinking chalices added its own melody to the cacophony, but she remained stubbornly silent and unresponsive to his overtures.

It was just as well, for King Edward sat in the chair to his left and seemed inclined to have conversation with him. He wanted Alex to describe the fortifications of the former Crusader castle where Alex had been held.

The king was speaking again. “I want to learn all I can, for I intend to build more castles throughout my lands, with the latest and most modern techniques in castle construction. And I plan to begin by building a line of defense to protect southern Wales.”

That caught Alex’s complete attention. “That is a very ambitious and daring project, Sire. Our neighbors to the west will not like it.”

Edward chuckled. “Aye. Llewelyn will be furious.” Then he sobered. “But I don’t trust him. The Prince of Wales will not be content for long holding only the northern lands of Wales. And my spies report that Llewelyn has decided to ignore my summons to do homage for his principality. Again.”

“Do you fear hostilities will break out between England and Wales again, Sire?”

Kat’s voice startled Alex. He turned to his wife and stared, incredulous that she would pose such a bold question.

Instead of taking offense, Edward laughed. “Fear? I am afraid of naught, Cousin. But I would prefer to complete this business of putting the kingdom’s affairs in order before I begin fighting any new wars.

“My cousin is a rare woman—her interest in worldly affairs and such,” Edward said as if Kat were invisible, a hint of disapproval in his voice.

Kat stiffened beside Alex. He laid a warning hand on her thigh and spoke up before she said something in anger. “Kat
is
a unique woman. But I’m a man of unusual tastes, and I enjoy the challenge.”

The king laughed heartily, while Alex’s remark earned him a sharp pinch from his wife. Pain shot up his inner thigh and he jerked. He removed his hand from her leg and rubbed his own injured limb.

Alex turned to her. “Was that necessary?” he said in an undertone, loud enough for Kat alone to hear.

“No more than your insulting comment. If that is your idea of courtship, I would rethink your strategy. Unless you
want
to lose our wager?”

Alex watched, fascinated, as Kat’s unusual eyes sparked bright as lightning, and then darkened to the color of a thundercloud. His breath hitched. When angry, Kat was an extraordinarily beautiful woman.

“Wager?” Alex replied. “I consider it more in the nature of a promissory note. When the note comes due, I promise you will never regret your decision to become my wife in truth.” His voice dropped huskily at the last.

An image of Kat lying naked in bed filled his head—her long-limbed body arched towards him in entreaty as he kissed and licked a slow, moist trail up her inner thigh. The image appeared so real his flesh hardened.

Kat must have read the desire in his eyes, for she reached blindly for the cup of wine they shared and took several deep draughts. He dropped his eyes to her throat when she swallowed, entranced by the sensual movement of the tendons in her neck.

With every deep breath, he inhaled her intoxicating scent, a mysterious blend of spices, jasmine, and Kat. It seduced his senses. He grew light-headed. The trestle table covering his actions, he tugged the suddenly tight linen braies away from his straining flesh.

Desperate for any distraction, Alex took a deep draught of the wine.

Released from Alex’s penetrating gaze, Kat blinked in confusion. Heat suffused her. She felt dazed, her senses scattered, as though she were awakening from some deep, enchanted spell. King Edward chose that moment to stand before the court; Kat breathed an audible sigh of relief.

Edward raised his chalice and rapped the table for attention. “Join me in a toast.” The noise in the hall ceased to a roaring silence. “It was a happy day for England when one of her bravest and most loyal knights returned to her shores upon his escape from a Saracen dungeon. To Sir Alex, a man of honor and conviction who has served me most faithfully. Welcome home.”

Shouts of welcome filled the hall, the noise deafening. Kat drank of her wine. Down the table she saw Sir Luc, his handsome profile slightly shadowed, hiding his look of annoyance.

When it was quiet again, Alex shoved back his chair and stood up. “Sire, I don’t know what to say, except…I am honored. I shall do my best to make sure that you never regret your words.

“But I must confess,” he continued, and then turned and addressed the suddenly rapt crowd, “I have not been as honorable in my actions as husband as I have been in my duty to God and my king.”

Gasps resounded throughout the dining hall. Feeling as if she had been hit over the head with a club, Kat raised her dazed gaze to Alex. His eyes held hers in a tight vise that was impossible to escape.

“Kat. To my shame, I failed you. The day we married, I made a sacred vow before God to love, honor, keep and protect you. But in my fear and selfishness, I fled the next day, without thought to what pain my actions might cause you. For that, I am profoundly sorry.”

The hall was deathly quiet, except for the roaring of blood in her ears. Even so, she heard the ring of sincerity in Alex’s voice. It amazed her that Alex, proud and domineering, would debase himself before the court for her. Pain squeezed her chest and her eyes welled with unshed tears. His apology was too late, though. She was not the same girl he left behind; anger had burned away what little of her heart remained after he rejected her. Nothing could replace the emptiness that resided within her heart. Now all she sought was peace.

King Edward slapped Alex on the back. “Well, Sir Alex, that was a most noble apology. What say you, Cousin, shall you accept this repentant rogue’s apology and give him another chance to prove his devotion?”

Kat hesitated. “I accept his apology.” She purposely did not address the last part of Edward’s question.

But the king laughed jovially, missing the significance. “There, Sir Alex. Your lady has spoken and all is forgiven. ’Tis past time you saw to the begetting of your heirs,” he said, turning to smile at Eleanor. “My lady will attest to the joy that children can bring to a marriage.” He held out his hand to Queen Eleanor and she smiled adoringly up at her husband. When she put her hand in his, he raised her to stand beside him while her ladies arranged her skirts.

Eleanor, her smile serene, turned to Kat. “Aye, Lady Katherine, I confess there is no greater reward in this life than giving your husband heirs. Indeed, ’tis a duty most pleasurable.”

The king laughed. Alex smiled good-naturedly. But Kat stood like a poker, her fists clenched, barely holding a smile on her face. Duty was the last reason she would ever give birth to a child. Children should be loved and cherished for their own sake, not begotten for the sole purpose of inheritance, or to acquire more wealth, land, and power.

Alex, his smile firmly in place, reached down and caught Kat’s hand in his and whispered, “Careful, your anger is giving you away. Relax.” Unlike the king, he was not fooled by her grudging acceptance of his apology. She had yet to forgive him and, though she had made a vow to give him a second chance, he knew she would fight him every step of the way.

He unclenched her fist, weaving his fingers through hers. Her hand squeezed tighter at his remark, then relaxed gradually in his grip. Her hand, soft skin and bold strength, felt right in his. He was home at last, and he intended to make Kat see that he was the only man for her. Any other outcome was unthinkable.

The king motioned for the musicians to play and then waved negligently to his court. “Continue on with your merrymaking,” he said and retired with his wife to their private quarters.

After the king and queen departed, lords and ladies left the tables, and servants began clearing off the trestle tables so they could break them down and clear the hall for dancing.

Kat turned to him. “I believe I will retire, also. ’Tis been a long and eventful day. I bid you good eve.”

Alex halted her. His first thought was that Kat was already reneging on her part of the bargain. Then he saw the slight droop in her shoulders and lavender shadows under her eyes.