Amongst Silk and Spice (12 page)

They rode on from Auch to the coast with a group of nobles heading back to Windsor for the upcoming tournament. Eloise rode slightly behind, still feeling out of sorts. She didn't like these people, although admittedly, everyone was very cordial to her. Even Lord and Lady Tullerworth were there, going as spectators to the festivities.

Perhaps that was the problem with these people, they celebrated with violence. But what sat really awkwardly was that these were officially her people. This was where she was supposed to be—jumping to attention when the king called, ansorbed in their snobbery and superiority, assured of their position in the world in relation to other men.

And then there was Hugo, returned into the fold of his kinsmen. He was respected here—men looked up to him, included him in their discussions and listened to his opinions. A whole other side to him revealed itself. She had known him when all this was stripped away. Now it felt like he was obscuring behind all the trappings of his position and occupation. But this was the same man who had rescued her from pirates and held her so tenderly, and the same man who had made her body soar with unknown passion when swayed by the potion of the lotus flower. She struggled to fit all these pieces together—along with the merciless boy she'd known. How could all these things fit together?

"You're falling behind," Hugo said, having snuck up on her again, sitting on his large gelding, leaning on the pommel. Looking up, she noticed that she actually was falling behind. "What has you so deep in contemplation?"

"Nothing," she said defensively and Hugo raised an eyebrow. "I was just considering the next few weeks. They are likely to be wrought."

Hugo didn't argue, which she appreciated. At least he understood her position in relation to her father. "You must rid yourself of your anger toward him."

"Something that will never happen."

"Perhaps he has missed you all these years."

"He didn't know me from the next girl. If he missed me so much, he shouldn't have thrown me away as though I was below consideration. He certainly shouldn't have robbed me of my mother."

"So we shouldn't expect a loving reunion, then?"

"I would have thought you'd know me better by now."

Hugo chuckled. "I know you're alone and that's not a nice place to be."

"I have friends."

"But friends are not family."

"Then you're alone too, Hugo."

"I am." With a nod, he rode ahead, leaving her to her own thoughts as she watched his straight back, used to being in a saddle. She never quite realized that Hugo admitted he was alone in the world. He'd seemed so intent on forbidding everything from affecting him—even as he admitted that he'd never had time to grow to care for his wife and son. Eloise supposed it was worse to have a family and let them slip away unnoticed. Maybe one deserved to be alone then, she thought, but changed her mind. She didn't want Hugo to suffer. Perhaps she was growing up a bit. She wouldn't go so far as to extend the curtesy to her father, who she had determinedly walked away from when she was little more than a child. Her father definitely deserved to lose his family, and she hadn't changed her mind on that fact.

Their ship waited for them at Mimizan, tall and wooden, one solid mast in the middle and towers at the front and end. This was a fighting ship, she realized. The platforms elevating archers, she guessed. She wasn't an expert on fighting.

The available cabins were taken by others and Eloise and Hugo had to find a place in the very front of the ship, in the bow. It had thick wooden beams that forced the shape of the ship and there was just enough room for two of them between the beams.

"So the last leg of this mad voyage," Hugo said as he sat down, leaning against the curved side of the ship.

"It has certainly been an adventure," she said, tucking her legs under her and turning slightly toward him in the dark space. "So now you return to fight in this tournament. Then what? Will you sail back the day after?"

"I might get a month to see to my estate."

"So we will part. It is strange to think. We have been each other's sole companion for so long now."

"Technically, you were my hostage."

"If I didn't at some point agree to come, I would have slipped away long ago."

Again Hugo didn't argue with her, which surprised her. She would have expected a more arrogant denial of her ability to deceive him. "You wish to confront your father."

"I think it's time that I do. I feel like I am done with the wounds of my past and need to lay them to rest."

"But not your animosity toward him?"

"No. I will say my peace and never think of him again."

"You would also be saying good-bye to who you are."

"An identity I'm not sure could fit now even if I wanted it to."

The ship left port, but they could see little in their enclosed space at the bow of the ship, which was dark no matter what the time.

Sailing like this was dull as there was nothing to do, nothing to see. Before long, Eloise felt her eyelids grow heavy. "Sleep," Hugo told her, patting his shoulder.

Eloise didn't argue and lay her head down where he indicated, drawing in the scent of him—a scent she'd started finding comforting. She still liked when he watched over her as she slept—her own private knight, protecting her from all dangers.

She woke feeling warm, but registered movement. For a moment she had no idea where she was, but knew Hugo was beside her, asleep. They'd somehow moved down the curve of the ship bow slightly and she was now resting her head on his chest with his arm around her. Her knee had crept over his, too. The length of his body was against hers.

Lifting her head up, she studied the skin of his neck, the strong jaw and the perfect, soft lips—lips she'd kissed. Actually there was no part of his body she hadn't shared. Heat flared up her belly and she continued to watch him, but also noted the pressure on the bow from the water and wind outside, making the ship sway. The seas were rough.

Hugo's breathing changed under her hand on his chest. He was waking and Eloise felt a rush of anticipation—for what she didn't know. His eyes opened and he turned his head toward her, just watching her for a moment, his eyes dark pools before turning to look around them, similarly confused of their surroundings as her when she woke.

"The seas are rough," she said.

"With any luck there won't be a storm."

Eloise looked around, hoping the ship was sturdy enough to weather a storm because she had a suspicion they were about to be caught in one. "Can you imagine coming all this way to die on the way to England?"

"Don't speak such."

"You fear words?"

"I wouldn't wish to tempt fate in this instance."

"I never took you as superstitious," she said with a teasing smile, pinching him slightly through his clothes when he stilled her hand by pressing it down. Her knee was still resting on his and they both grew aware of their nearness, exponentially increasing the awkwardness between them. Eloise pulled her leg away, sitting up to wrap her arms around her knees, and Hugo sat up as well.

"I'll go see if I can find us something to eat."

Eloise nodded and watched as he rose, moving awkwardly into the back of the ship, which moved sharply and unpredictably under his feet. She felt his absence as he disappeared down a partition dissecting the inside of the hull.

It was hard for her to consider that they would be nothing to each other when they reached England. He would deliver her as required, then withdraw to his new duties—or participate in this tournament. As for herself, she had no idea what the near future entailed. Her father could lock her away in a convent for all she knew, or even a prison, although technically he didn't have the right to.

It took fifteen minutes for Hugo to return with bread, cheese and ham, wrapped in a muslin cloth. "There is a storm," he said, "and apparently it is too large to sail around. They say we must prepare for a rough few hours."

"Again, Hugo, if I die on this journey, I will haunt you forever."

Hugo smiled. "I would expect nothing less. Although if you perish in this storm, the chances are high that I will, too."

"I don't care. I will find you and haunt you."

Watching him, Eloise ate some bread and leaned back on the side of the ship, wondering how he felt about finishing this journey.  Something fell onto the deck above them, drawing her out of her thoughts. She did feel better with him there, even if there was precious little he could do to combat a storm. She felt safe with him, even if feeling unsafe was not an issue that had greatly bothered her in the past.

The ship rocked heavily and water washed in somewhere further down the ship, but it was sturdy and seemingly handling the storm sufficiently well. So far, the water hadn't reached where they were sitting. Eloise sat with her knees up, tucked under his arm, looking pale even in the darkness of the hull. They were more stable together through the rocking of the ship, so they embraced, seeking strength and comfort from each other.

Hugo had taken his mail off, in case they needed to tackle water—its weight serving no useful purpose now. He'd lain it over the nearby beam along with his surcoat.

"If my father locks me away to be forgotten somewhere, will you rescue me?"

"He won't."

"You cannot promise me that. Who knows what hatred he carries for me?"

"He would not have called you back after such a stretch of time if he didn't want to see you."

"Or something from me, which I am not prepared to give him. He has done enough damage; I don't want to sacrifice the rest of my life to his ruthlessness."

"If he locks you away, I promise I will release you. It won't come to that. That I can promise you."

Eloise snuggled closer into him as a wave crashed on the bow above them. This was the second storm they'd encountered on this journey. It couldn't storm when they were safely enclosed in a stone structure; it had to be when they were exposed and vulnerable. "We'll be fine," he said in an attempt to reassure.

Leaning his head back on the hull, he sighed. They could not sit like this if anyone saw them—it would be inappropriate. Yet right now, he didn't want to change it. This journey wasn't over just yet, but it would be soon and he suspected that he would miss her.

Her hand stroked across his stomach. This really was inappropriate—he knew that. They were much too close, but he couldn't push her away when she was fearful—for their current circumstances, as well as what she was about to face when they arrived. Although he was fairly sure she could face anything when it came down to it. He'd seen her pride and her gumption, but for some reason, she let him see her vulnerability.

Her eyes sparkled in the pale light from a swinging lamp as she turned her head up to him. He couldn't see what was on her mind, but something was. Her focus moved to his lips and he knew he was in for trouble. She wanted a kiss and he felt his gut clench with driving tension, maybe even elation.

He was unable to stop her as she reached up to him, closing his eyes as their lips made contact, the pleasure of it reverberating through his mind and body. It wasn't a chaste kiss—it deepened and he drew in the warm, moist sweetness of her mouth like a condemned man.

His lungs strived for air when they broke apart and his lips ached for more. Part of him hoped it would end there, but another part wished more than anything for the kiss to continue. After this final voyage, he would never get to sit like this with her again. She would withdraw into the confines of propriety, at arm’s-length if not more, untouchable and remote.

Somehow, her hand had crept under his shirt, stroking across his abdomen. She wanted him and sweet thoughts of her yielding body filled his mind, making him grow painfully hard.

"Eloise," he said, but was cut off by her mouth finding his again. The sly softness of her tongue ventured to meet his, and he groaned deeply with pleasure, drawing her to him, feeling the softness of her breast flattened against him.

He wanted more than anything to be buried deep inside her body, to forget anything else in the world—particularly the part around all the reasons why he shouldn't. She was not his to take.

Shifting, she straddled him, sitting in his lap, pressing the apex of her thighs to his painful length, and the friction send delicious and urgent shivers up his body. Reaching up, he kissed her deeply, spearing his tongue into her mouth, seeking refuge and acceptance, and the burning warmth inside her. His fingers snaked into her hair, drawing her more forcefully into the kiss, while the other hand slipped around her slim waist, feeling the fastenings of her dress down the back.

Pulling back, he watched her as he flicked one of the fastenings open, seeing only desire in her eyes. He could die happy with that look on him. Her lips were swollen and her eyes were only on him. Quickly, he undid a few more of the ties, until the material gave way.

Rolling her hips, she ground into him, moaning slightly as she did. She ached for him.

Hugo drew the material down her shoulder, exposing her pert, pink-tipped breast. Was there a more beautiful sight in the world? Urging her back, he claimed the pebble-hard bud in his mouth, wondering how it was both hard and incredibly soft at the same time, yielding to his tongue.

Her fingers massaged his head, drawing him closer to her. If there weren't layers of clothing between them, he would be pressing into her wet heat right now, striving for relief from this urgent tension.

This was lover's play like he'd never known before. This wasn't the indifferent access to a woman's body for coin or the fearful distance of the girl he'd married. Eloise wanted him without thought of consequence, and if he'd been lucky before in not placing a babe in her womb, he might not be again.

Wrapping his arms around her, he held her to him, refusing to relent when she tried to move. "We cannot," he said, breath crashing through his chest. "I must not."

"We already have," she said, her cheek to his chest.

"I know, but I cannot risk it. I am officially on the king's business, to retrieve you."

"We are but a few days away from England. Who can accuse you when we are so close to our destination? No one will know."

"I will know."

Her hand stroked his side, making his muscles contract under her touch. He wanted her more than he'd ever wanted any woman, and she was the one he couldn't have. "Hugo," she urged. "If there is a child, I will care for it. I don't mind."

He lay still for a moment, then gently pushed her away, his body aching with unspent passion, but his heart ached more. "I will not lose another son."

Eloise bundled her dress to her chest, frowning. "I'm sorry."

Hugo felt even worse. "Don't be sorry. You honor me, but it’s not my right and I am duty bound to protect you—even from me."

Unsteadily he stepped away, hating himself for doing it. He may never know such passion again, but it was not his to languish in, and he couldn't father a child to then release into the world. On some level he understood Lord Chanderling's urgency to know what had happened to his child. Hugo could not place himself in that situation, bearing a child he could not protect.

Eloise wanted to leave and would do so at the earliest opportunity. She would find someone else to father her child, perhaps someone like that young stone mason in Constantinople. Rage swirled through his blood, making him drunk with bone-deep jealousy, but the truth was that he offered her nothing she wanted—except his body.

Bracing himself, he made his way up on deck, holding tightly to a piece of the rigging, where he was buffeted by the winds and the spray of the ocean—cooling both his ardor and mind.

If he were a lesser man, he would be drowning in pleasure right now, but he had enough burdens to carry. He could not take this on as well.

After half an hour, he returned below, soaked to the bone. Eloise still sat with her dress pressed to her chest, unable to do the fastenings up the back on her own. The thought hadn't even occurred to him.

"Come," he said as he sat down next to her. She turned her back to him and he re-tied the delicate fastenings, his fingers leaving dark water stains on the material.

"You're wet."

"The spray is relentless above."

Leaning forward, Eloise retrieved his surcoat, placing it on him as he leaned back against the hull. "I wish I could, more than anything, but I can't."

Eloise closed her eyes and he studied her for a moment, not quite believing he had the strength to refuse such beauty.