Betrayal (Book 2: Time Enough to Love) (16 page)

Finally capturing it, he ravaged its depths, pressed her body to his, as if he wished to make her burn for him anew. If so, his wish was granted. She moaned with the growing need to feel him flesh to flesh. When she thrust her tongue into his mouth, eager to torment him in turn, he put her from him.

“So whose debt will we cancel tonight, my lady?”

Panting, she gazed at him, hot with want. “Both, I assume, my lord.”

He laughed and swatted her backside, causing her to jump. “Then don my garments, my lady, that we may see if you can make some alterations to them ere we are called up on deck.”

Almost two hours later, as Alyse put the final stitches into the sleeves of the tunic, there came a knock at the door. She jumped at the sudden sound then flew to the far side of the bed with the altered garments. “I need a few moments to don these clothes. Can you talk to him outside? I will come as soon as I am ready.”

Thomas nodded and stepped outside.

She pulled the unfamiliar apparel over her head, trying not to think about how she would look in this garb. The tunic slid into place, still baggy, but she cinched it with a sash that would have to do. She swirled the cloak around her, took a deep breath, and opened the chamber door.

The shadowy figures of Thomas and Geoffrey stood before her as she emerged.

“Alyse?”

At the sound of his voice, she began to tremble. Memory of the last time he had spoken her name came crashing through the wall she had erected against Geoffrey Longford.

He was nothing to her now. She had to believe that. Thank God the cloak hid her from his curious stare.

“Where did you get her clothes?” Geoffrey whispered to Thomas.

“They are mine. She altered them the hour past. They look quite charming in the light.” Thomas’s voice held more than a touch of pride.

Geoffrey grinned. “I expect so.”

Oh, could they not get on with it? She would come to grief if they did not get up on deck soon.

At last, Geoffrey recalled his business. “Give me the count of a hundred then start up the passageway. You should be fine if you stay in the forecastle.” He shouldered his way past them in the narrow hall and disappeared into the dark.

Thomas took her hand. “Are you ready, my dear? The wide world awaits your pleasure.”

Alyse pulled him close for a long, searing kiss that left no doubt what her pleasure would be.

Damn Geoffrey Longford
.

“You made me lose count.” He chuckled softly. Alyse squeezed his hand then tugged him toward the faint light at the end of the passageway. Her excitement mounted as they drew closer to the opening.

Finally standing at the rail, an elation hit her the likes of which she had experienced only a few times before in her life: her first gallop on horseback, her presentation at court, the night she lay with…. She pushed that last thought away before it could cast a pall over her. Let her savor this experience, tinged with danger. Its power made her feel fully alive and, for once, in control of her life. She alone had initiated this adventure, although others had helped carry it out. Whether it went off without difficulty or crashed down around her ears, she would take blame or glory for the night’s work.

She stood at Thomas’s side in the faint moonlight, reveling in the fresh, salty breeze, the slap of the waves against the hull, the rough railing under her hand. Her senses were completely awake and yearning for more excitement. She swung around to stare at her husband, who had given her so much. Could she give something back?

Alyse grasped Thomas’s hand, and said, so low he had to lean over to hear her words, “I have a second part to the debt, my lord.”

He cocked his head and squeezed her hand. “What is that, my sweet?”

“I want you to take me to bed.”

His breath hissed inward and his grip on her increased. “It will be my utmost pleasure, sweetheart.” She could not see his face, but his voice dropped to a husky whisper. “Shall we repair to our cabin now to satisfy this second debt?”

“I want you to bed me here, Thomas. On deck. Under the stars.”

“You are mad.” He turned to the rail and slowly lowered his body to sit with his back to the gunwale. With a hand on her wrist, he pulled her down beside him and leaned toward her. “Alyse, I will willingly take you when and where you wish. As often as you like.” He peered into the darkness, right and left, then hissed, “But we cannot lie together here. ’Sblood! An we were caught…” His breath rasped in her ear as he panted with outrage. “Your confinement has turned your mind.”

“No. But it has shown me that I need to take what I want if I can get it, when I can get it.” She cupped his face. “And I want the adventure of lying with you, here and now.” After a glance around, she pressed a kiss on his lips. “’Twill certainly be a story for our grandchildren.”

Thomas dropped his head to his hands, shaking it slowly.

Alyse held her breath, hoping with all her heart he would grant her request.

After what seemed an eternity, as if giving in to a private quarrel, he raised his head and swept the area with his gaze. Quietly he murmured, “Come,” and began to crawl toward the canvas-draped crates to his right. Alyse wondered where they were going, until an opening among the wooden boxes appeared, the taut canvas creating a cave of sorts nestled between the two closest to the railing. He indicated for her to enter this narrow mouth, and when she had scooted as far back as she could go, he eased his large frame into the opening.

Thomas lay on his back, barely a hand’s-breadth of space on either side of him. Alyse sat curled in a ball at his feet, with her knees drawn up to her chin, her back against another crate.

What now? Surely there was no room…

He grabbed her hand and pulled her down on top of him. “You do realize that when I take you this time ’twill not be as it has been before? ’Twill be quick and mayhap rough. Not because I wish it so, but because we will be under strict time constraints. Are you sure this is what you want?”

Alyse nodded, her heart starting to pound.

“Then come, my dear, we must be about the business at hand. Raise up on your hands.”

With that he untied the belt that held the hose about her waist, and pushed them down her thighs. Then he managed to do a like service for himself, and his fully erect member bumped impatiently against her stomach.

He grabbed her hair, pulled her to him, kissing her mouth with a rough urgency that startled her. A soft groan rumbled from his chest, and he broke off the kiss to whisper urgently, “I need you now, Alyse. I can scarce wait.”

Confused, she stared at him and shook her head. “How?”

Thomas’s eyes gleamed in the scant light. “You will ride tonight, madam. The best mount in your husband’s stable.”

Alyse gasped, the words searing her mind. He caressed her backside then lifted her up, settled her upon his eager shaft. A muted groan of pleasure escaped as the throbbing heat slid deep within her. She leaned forward to kiss him, and he pushed her into a gentle rocking rhythm that gathered speed. The tension inside her mounted quickly, spurred on by the forbidden nature of their act. Alyse choked back the moan of ecstasy as suddenly the force of their passion exploded within her.

They shuddered as one, held for an eternity as if melded together in a firestorm of sensual pleasure. Then the moment passed, and Alyse collapsed onto Thomas’s heaving chest as she panted, trying to still the thudding of her heart. She wanted nothing more in the world than to lie here with her head pillowed on his chest, his strong arms around her, and luxuriate in the power of the moment. Her husband, however, was already urging her to sit up. Although reluctant, she complied, and began to pull the hose up over her hips.

They redressed swiftly, and Thomas poked his head out of the canopy, caution in his slow movement. He grabbed her hand and drew her from beneath the canvas and would have turned for the passageway, except Alyse pulled away and headed back to the rail. She leaned against it and looked toward the land they would reach in a pair of days, and sighed, satisfied to her bones.

He came to stand beside her, putting an arm around her shoulders as with any good companion. “We must go back, my sweet, lest we overstay our time here.” He breathed into her ear then nuzzled her neck.

“Aye, my love,” she whispered back. “I but said a short prayer to the Virgin.”

“And what would you ask of her, my love?”

“That, by the grace of God, your first son now lives inside me.” Alyse looked at him in the pale moonlight, a sense of well-being and contentment stealing through her.

Thomas’s eyes gleamed as he raised her hand and kissed it. “Pray God it be so.” Then he swept his arm around her waist and bore her back to their chamber.

Keep reading for a sneak peek of Beleaguered, the exciting conclusion to the Time Enough to Love series.

Chapter 1

Bordeaux
, France. August 1348

Alyse stood once again at the bow of the
Phillipa
, watching with elation as the ship wound its way down the dark green Garonne River toward the sizeable town of Bordeaux. Unlike the last time she had gone on deck, clandestinely garbed as a man, she was now dressed in a cool blue and silver linen cotehardie, her arm intertwined with her husband’s. Thought of that adventure still made her blush—not only had she and Thomas defied a royal order to come up on deck, but they had enjoyed a frantic coupling that left no doubt in her mind she belonged to Thomas, body and soul.

She tipped her head back, allowing the wind to cool her cheeks. After the final three days of their confinement below decks, the tang of the fresh salt air aroused her long-denied senses. Taking deep breaths, she savored the smell. Being restricted to the small cabin with her husband—not to mention the loss of her position in the court—had seemed a steep punishment for her indiscretion with Geoffrey Longford. But she would have paid a greater one to bring her to the realization that she had to choose which man she would cleave to—the man she had loved or the man she had married. Pray God she had chosen wisely.

Although she had not yet been recalled to the princess’s service, those duties would likely resume either tonight or on the morrow. ’Twould be difficult to be in close company with Geoffrey and his…wife. ’Twas hard even to think about the woman who had taken her rightful place. She would attempt to keep the couple at arm’s length, in spite of Geoffrey’s long friendship with her husband. If she did not see or speak to the man to whom she had been betrothed more than two months ago, mayhap she could come to love her husband as she ought to. So she would relish her day outside with Thomas, watching the ship draw close to the Port de St. Croix, where the courtiers would disembark.

The outline of the city rooftops danced before her eyes as she took in the sturdy walls of the fortifications, the graceful houses rising behind it, and, in the distance, the royal castle where the princess and her retinue would be housed for the next month before continuing on to
Spain. The novelty of these sights made Alyse’s spirits rise, and she chattered to Thomas, who appeared amused at her lightheartedness.

“My lady, you seem ready to jump over the side and swim ashore in your haste to leave the good
Phillipa
.” Thomas laughed and made as if to pull her back from the rail.

“Aye, my lord.” She heaved a mock sigh. “If I could but swim I might indeed seek to steal an advance on the princess. Not having learned that skill, however,” Alyse smiled up at him, “I will have to content myself with your assistance in leaving the vessel.”

The ship slowly came alongside the dock, the oarsmen maneuvering the vessel with skill born of long practice. With a gentle lurch, it came to rest and the anchor dropped, instigating much activity on deck. Mates ran to and fro, shouting and pulling on ropes. Courtiers emerged from below deck, anxious to watch the docking.

Alyse drank in the sights and sounds, heady stuff after a week limited to Thomas’s company and the walls of their cabin. She craned her neck to get a better view of the wharf when, from the corner of her eye, she caught bold movement. Geoffrey emerged from the gangway, dark cape swirling. His tall frame, clothed in a soft blue tunic, towered over everyone else on deck. The strong features she knew so well—thick eyebrows, intense blue eyes, firm jaw—now carried a tension that spoke of his newly-donned responsibilities for the princess. He swept the bow, craning his neck as if searching for someone. 

Her heart stuttered. She clutched Thomas’s arm and turned toward him, prepared to make the most trivial conversation if need be, anything that might distract her from thoughts of Geoffrey Longford. But Thomas stared at someone over her head, and the hairs on the back of her neck pricked. Surely the man she sought to avoid now stood directly behind her.

“Good morrow, Thomas, Lady Alyse.”

The deep, beloved voice she would rather forget raised goose flesh on her arms. Courtesy demanded she greet him, but her body balked. She stood frozen, staring at her husband. Her hand dropped from his arm.

“Good morrow, Geoffrey
,” Thomas hailed his friend then looked quizzically at his wife.

She had no choice. To snub him would only cause more talk. Alyse plastered a smile on her lips and forced herself to face Geoffrey. “Good morrow, Lord Longford,” she said, keeping her tone sweet, but clipping the words. This was the first time she had seen Geoffrey since their meeting on this very spot over a week ago. The first time since she had bedded another man. Heat flooded her face. Pray let him think it the sun that beat down so keenly. Not quite knowing what she expected to see, she raised her gaze to his.

Now that was odd.

Geoffrey smiled amiably at Thomas as they carried on a brief conversation about the landing. Other than the polite greeting, he seemed to ignore her. Thank the Virgin. She still feared Thomas would react with violence if Geoffrey paid her any attention. For him to take no notice of her seemed prudent, yet it left her with a sharp pang of regret.

As the men talked above her head, she stared over the bow. She had stood here a week ago, looking at the waves. Geoffrey had found her there, and for a while the world had disappeared, and they had kissed as though none of the treachery of his marriage had taken place. As though they again had the right to love one another.

He had urged her to believe that, and though she longed to comply, in the end she had sent him away rather than dishonor her husband. The encounter had been witnessed by Thomas and had led, at last, to her betrayal of Geoffrey in Thomas’s bed. As that memory came flooding back, her body heated, shame warring with desire. She turned away from the men, lest they notice her pink-tinged cheeks, and gazed again at the bustling wharf.

“Alyse, where are you going, love?” Thomas asked as she stepped toward the railing.

“Just here, my lord, to watch the people busy on the dock.” That seemed the safest place
for her at present. She forced herself to concentrate on the carts being piled with boxes and trunks, as the servants ran from ship to land. Anything that would keep her mind from the conversation and the speakers standing behind her. ’Twas a feat more difficult than she would have suspected.

“Thank you, Geoffrey,” she heard her husband say
at last. “We will be here until you call us.” Footsteps receded. Moments later, Thomas slipped an arm around her waist and drew her near him. She folded her hands over his arm and leaned back against his comforting chest, breathing a sigh of relief. The first meeting had ended with blessed little distress to anyone but her.

“Geoffrey says we are to wait on deck until the princess and all her other attendants are ashore then we will follow them. There are carriages waiting in the next street to take the courtiers to the royal residence.” His mouth hovered near her ear, his warm breath caressing the sensitive flesh there.

She shivered and turned to face him, smiling. Another hurdle had passed. Thomas seemed not at all uncomfortable or angry after this meeting with Geoffrey. That boded well for the future.

“Why does Lord Longford direct us to wait until the entire entourage has preceded us ashore? On whose authority does he inconvenience us so?” As anxious as she had been to gain access to the deck of the
Phillipa
, she was even more desirous to quit the ship entirely. Waiting for hours while the rest of the courtiers were allowed to leave sat very ill with her. She was, after all, the princess’s own lady-in-waiting and this seemed a snub of her and her husband. Could it be at the whim of Geoffrey Longford?

Thomas gave her an annoyed glance. “Do you really intend to call him Lord Longford for the rest of your life?”

She met his gaze squarely and replied, “Aye, my lord. If you have no objection. ’Tis his name, after all.”

“Alyse. I thought we were well past this by now.” Thomas continued to glare sternly at her. “You have my leave to call him Geoffrey. He is still my friend, and we will most likely be much in his company. I will not have you making him or Lady Mary uncomfortable by being so formal in your address.”

Alyse sighed. If only Thomas would allow her to handle the matter as she thought best, they would likely not come to grief. She needed to keep Geoffrey at a distance for all their sakes. “Very well, my love,” she yielded at last. “For your sake alone will I address him as Sir Geoffrey. But more familiar than that I will not be.”

Thomas grinned down at her and took her hand. “More familiar than that I would not have you be, my sweet.” He brought her hand to his lips, sending tingles down her arm. “At least, not with anyone but me.”

Relieved, she gave herself up to the pleasurable fire her husband kindled in her. She had feared the sight of Geoffrey might rob her of the joy of Thomas’s touch, of the peace she had finally made within herself, and she gave thanks to the Blessed Mary it had not. After another moment of reveling in his touch, she remembered her question. “But you have not answered me. Why does he designate us the cow’s tail?”

Thomas chuckled. “’Twas not Geoffrey’s doing, my love. You will find he is not vindictive that way. ’Twas an edict from the princess herself. It seems you and I are not back in her good graces yet.”

Unwelcome news indeed. She longed to return to company, to resume her place in the princess’s service.

“As second-in-command, Geoffrey will be shepherding the retinue to the castle while Bouchier sees to the men-at-arms and the long bowmen. Although he has authority, Geoffrey takes his orders from others.” Thomas cocked his head. “Does our exile still vex you so much, sweetheart?”

Alyse smiled back ruefully. “In truth, it does. I would be on dry land and in our new chambers ’ere night falls. By the looks of this mob,” she gestured to the throng of courtiers who crowded together as they left the ship, “we will still be standing right here when the moon sets tonight!” She gazed at him beseechingly. “When think you the princess will repeal her order and bid me come back to her?”

Thomas assumed a hurt expression. “But a day or two ago you were bewailing the fact that when you attend the princess again you will have less time to attend to me.” His eyes shone with mischief. “Are you so fickle now, madam, to throw me aside for a chance to carry the princess’s cup at table?”

Alyse drew him near, fastening her arms securely around his waist. “I will always have time for you, my love.” His body, heated from the sun, smelled of citrus and musk, an earthy scent that made her long for the privacy of their chamber. “At any hour of the day or night, if it is within my power, I will come to you as wife and lover. That is my solemn vow.” She sealed it with a quick kiss then said with mock anger, “And I have
never
carried the princess’s cup at table, I will have you know!” They laughed together, looking out over the dock as the line of carriages began its procession to the royal castle on the Garonne.

Throughout the long day, she and Thomas watched while the seemingly endless stream of nobles and their luggage made their slow way from the several ships to the waiting carriages. Geoffrey conducted this parade with military precision, and, for once, his actions held more interest for her than his person. He barked orders, directed the confused ladies and gentlemen to their conveyances, and managed to keep the flow of courtiers and carriages at a reasonably steady pace.

Praise the Holy Virgin he had the gift of command; else she would stand at the rail until eternity ended. Still the sun continued its journey to the west, glinting off the spire of a magnificent church in the distance. Alyse closed her eyes, imagining the coolness of its marble walls, a respite from the blazing August heat.

“Lord and Lady Braeton!”

The shout from the dock startled her, and her eyes popped open.

Geoffrey waved to them. “Proceed down the gangway.”

“Thank you, Blessed Mary.” Alyse crossed herself and turned to Thomas, grasping his hand and tugging him toward the planks leading to freedom. “Come, Thomas! ’Tis our turn at last.”

He chuckled and squeezed her hand, restraining her. “Not so fast, sweet. The planking is steep. ’Twould not be a welcome excitement to have to fish you out of the
Garonne.”

“But we are nearly there.” She strained forward, pulling him like a horse in harness, unable to contain her eagerness.

“Go with God then, sweet.” He laughed and released her hand.

Suddenly freed, she raced down the planks and onto the dock several steps ahead of her husband. When she reached the pier, she raised her arms and twirled around, her silver and blue gown spinning out around her like a quicksilver fan. She stopped spinning abruptly as the ground moved below her feet as of its own accord. Thank goodness Thomas had arrived beside her. She reached for his arm, lest she topple over.

“Why does the land move so?” she asked fearfully, trying to remain standing while her feet seemed to wander to and fro.

He laughed and held her steady. “We have been moving constantly for the past ten days. ’Tis the ground that stays still while your body thinks it continues to move. ’Twill pass in a few moments.” Then, to her surprise, he scooped her up in his arms and started for the last waiting carriage. “I believe this is a better solution to your predicament, madam.”