Betrothal (Time Enough To Love) (13 page)

Geoffrey stood stoically, assessing this unforeseen turn of events. He had counted on Thomas’s continued disdain of Alyse to keep him at arm’s length. Now, his appreciation for her shone in every word. How long before her attraction to him, and his newfound admiration for her, overcame their scruples and made him a cuckold?

“I must beg your pardon as well, Geoffrey.”

The words jolted him out of his musings. They sent a shiver of foreboding throughout him. “For what transgression?” He did not really want to know.

“My words caused a rift between you that hurt you both. I am heartily sorry I compelled you to disbelieve what you knew to be true about Alyse.”

He grunted at the familiar address. So it had begun. “Alyse?”

“She asked, Geoffrey.”

“I know. I heard. I was standing right there
, in case you did not notice.”

“Aye, I noticed. As did she. Though she is piqued at your behavior today, she is willing for us all to be friends, which could prove quite interesting, since your jealousy is showing even now.” He sighed. “Well, ’tis for a short time only. You sail for Spain in under two months?”

“Aye. ‘Twill be a trying journey at best. You are well out of it.”

“Aye.” Thomas shrugged. “I have begged off and the king has finally agreed. I am the Earl of Braeton and there is no one left of my line but me. I must marry, and soon, to get an heir then settle on the estate in Sussex.” The set of his face said the prospect did not excite him.

“Have you begun to search for a wife?”

“Nay, not seriously. Although now I do regret not offering for Lady Alyse when I had the chance.”

Geoffrey fisted his hands until his nails dug into his palms.

“Peace, Geoffrey!” His friend chuckled and shook his head. “’Twas spoken in jest. But I see why you value her so.” His smile became a grin. “I will treasure our dance this evening immeasurably.”

“Thomas! You will not—”

“’Twas the lady’s specific request. And ’tis only a dance.”

Geoffrey stopped before they reached the threshold. “I know, but…she favors you.” The words came from between clenched jaws. Despite his resolve to try to free himself from Alyse, he could not control himself whenever he thought of her with another man.

“Do you doubt the lady so much, then?” Thomas raised an eyebrow.

“By God, Thomas.” Geoffrey took a step toward his friend. “How dare you say such a thing?”

“Because you are acting an utter fool, my friend.
You
wrong the lady, not I.” Thomas shook his head. “You cannot see her when she looks at you, Geoffrey. Her eyes drink you in, as though she is parched and you are the fountain of life. If she favored me once, it is no more. I would put my oath on that.”

Geoffrey’s heart ached at the words. Would to God they were true.

He looked around. They were about to enter the Great Hall. He pulled himself to his full height and affected the courtier’s face he had practiced for so long. A glance at Thomas showed he had also assumed an air of studied indifference. It did not, however, fool him. The man was angry.

He sighed. “Thomas, I beg your—.”

“Forget it, my friend. To control your jealousy may be another labor of Hercules. But I meant what I said. I give Lady Alyse my service, my loyalty, my friendship. ’Tis all.” Thomas sought his gaze and held it. “I would not serve you so ill, Geoffrey. To believe I would does me a dishonor.”

Geoffrey glanced away, chastened. Mayhap he had done his friend a grave disservice. In ten years of friendship, he had never had cause to doubt him.

“Go to your betrothed with a happy heart, as I go to Lady Carlyle, who will tend my wounds tonight. Among other things.” Thomas rolled his eyes and sighed, affecting the role of the pining lover.

His display drew a chuckle from Geoffrey, and he relaxed. He had to attempt to curb his jealous nature, though God knew Thomas was right—’twould be another Herculean task. He would put aside his distrust of Alyse and Thomas for tonight. It seemed his friend’s interests currently lay elsewhere
, and it was just one dance.

But he would have a reckoning with Alyse ere the evening was done. Her outburst this afternoon lay heavily on his mind. Despite Thomas’s words, she seemed to still harbor feelings for him. ‘Twas time he knew for certain.

Reminding himself of the coming dance with Alyse on his arm, he entered the Hall with Thomas to join Guy de Valere for the assembly.

When Alyse entered the Hall, she raced to the dais where the princess and Lady Carlyle had already taken their places. As the presentation of prizes had been held on the field, the first dance would begin the assembly this evening. Alyse’s tardiness would have been grievous had not two of the joust’s winners also been conspicuously absent. She mounted the platform and assumed her place beside the princess. Princess Joanna glanced at her—a slight shake of her head her only rebuke—as they awaited the champions.

Sir Guy stood at the far end of the
Hall, brilliantly attired in a silver and blue cotehardie, cut in the latest style. His swarthy, handsome face, as attractive as she remembered it, turned toward her. And, though she could not tell for certain at that distance, she believed he watched her as they waited. The imagined examination made her shift uncomfortably, and she fought not to squirm before the assembled court.

At last, Geoffrey and Thomas hurried to join him
, and she sighed with relief. Perhaps now she could focus her attention on the highlight of the evening for her: the dance. The entrance of her two knights created a splendid a picture, though each wore more sober colors than Guy. Geoffrey had dressed in a light brocade of his favorite blue, the color exactly matching his eyes at their darkest. Thomas appeared as a stunning contrast to him, in dark gold tones that complimented his coloring. Alyse could not have hoped to see three men more handsome, and she smiled with pleasure at the prospect of dancing with two of them.

As the champions met at the end of the Great Hall, the trumpeters sounded the fanfare once again. Alyse flanked Princess Joanna as she stepped forward, Lady Carlyle on her other side. The gentlemen came forward to claim their ladies and lead them into the middle of the
Hall. The musicians struck up a stately
carole,
and the three couples formed pairs, one following the other, creating a line that moved gradually around the Hall. She and Geoffrey were the center pair and slowly trailed behind the princess and her partner.

Acutely aware that this was their first dance together, Alyse found it almost impossible to keep her eyes forward as propriety demanded. She darted glances at Geoffrey as they moved through the deliberate steps, her blood singing with each glimpse of his elegant figure. Hand and hand—the heat they generated threatened to set her ablaze—they stepped to the slow beat, now forward, now backward, slowly making their way around the Great Hall. Again, the yearning overtook her to belong to this man utterly and intimately. To be his in every way possible before it was too late. But for the grace of God, tonight could have been too late. He could have been killed today
, and she would never have known the joy of belonging to him completely.

She wanted to remember every moment of this dance, to be able to savor each one later, but the flickering light, the heat of the chamber, the intensity of the music and her own thundering heart worked to make the dance a swirl of impressions—riotous and fleeting. When the music ended, Alyse’s head still reeled.

Geoffrey turned smartly toward her and bowed low, and she curtsied in return. Then he took her hand and kissed it. Her breath came faster, and her heart thudded in her ears as a full flush of heat rose in her face. The touch of his lips on her skin fought like fire and ice: she first burned then trembled as chills raced through her body. She barely heard the thunderous applause and cheers of the assembly.

After what seemed an age, he straightened. He flicked his eyes over her face, as if searching for something
then placed her hand over his and escorted her toward the dais along with the other couples. When they all reached the platform, they bowed again to the king and queen then the ladies ascended to their assigned places there, while the gentlemen returned to their tables.

Alyse had scarcely been seated when the musicians began their next piece, a lively tune for a
farandole
. She excused herself to the princess and Lady Carlyle and flew to the steps at the rear of the dais, eager not to miss a moment of her first dance with Thomas.

The events of the evening whirled through her head. The sincerity of Thomas’s apology. The heat of her encounter with Geoffrey. Now the long awaited dance—a dream at last come true. Although, she should not, mayhap, relish this dance so thoroughly.

I should be more eager to dance once more with my love.

Still, the anticipation of a lively dance with a handsome partner—

“Ooof.” Lost in her thoughts, Alyse sped down the steps and slammed into a courtier standing at the corner of the platform. The blow to his chest had enough force to make him grunt. Her own breath left her as she looked up into the dark, smoldering eyes of Guy de Valere.

She staggered back, gasping to pull the needed air into her lungs.

What is he doing here?

“
Demoiselle
Alyse.” His eyes glittered in the smoky torchlight. “I have been waiting for you,
cherie
. You are exquisite as always.” He glanced up and down her frame, seeming to take in every detail of dress and form. Guy had ever appreciated the many charms of a woman.

“It is good to see you once again, Guy. It has been many years, has it not?” She glanced around, hoping Thomas would be coming to claim his dance, but their position prohibited her from seeing. Or being seen.

“Too long,
cherie
. You have been buried up in the north for many years. And now your father tells me you are to travel to Spain.”

“Yes, I am in Princess Joanna’s retinue. A singular honor.” She craned her neck, hoping for a glimpse of someone who would rescue her. “I must find my partner for this dance. ’Twill be discourteous if I do not appear.” Guy had been a persistent suitor at home; she would wager he had not changed. She dodged around him, bent on escape, only to have him snag her arm.

“Dance the next with me then, Alyse.”

“But I—” He squeezed her elbow hard, stopping her protest. “Of course, Guy. One dance. But I have promised the rest to Geoffrey.”

“I thank you,
cherie
. Now allow me to escort you to your partner.” He trapped her hand against his body and strode out into the Great Hall, forcing her to trot along at his side. She immediately saw Thomas at her usual table, speaking with Maurya and Sir John.

“There, Guy.” She managed to steer him toward her partner, grateful Geoffrey had not yet put in an appearance. Thomas looked up as she approached, his eyebrows swooping up in a question though otherwise his face remained unchanged. Relief washed over her—she would be safe now. For a time, at least.

As they neared the trestle, she relaxed and managed to slip her hand from Guy’s grasp. She headed directly to Thomas, took his hands and nodded toward the center of the Hall where the lines for the dance were forming.

“I beg pardon, Thomas, for my tardiness. Let us make haste to join the—”

Pressure from his hand arrested her. He inclined his head to the opposite side of the room. “We will have a raging bull upon us in a moment.” She spun around to see Geoffrey storming toward them, his strides lengthening with each step. Thomas’s brown eyes snapped with amusement. “Be ready to make your introductions, lest we have a joust of a different sort displayed here this evening.”

She closed her eyes briefly and prayed for strength. How did she manage to become the center of so many spectacles when she tried so hard to avoid them? She nodded and tried to smile naturally as Geoffrey, his face twisted into a thunderous scowl, strode up to them.

“My lord,” she smiled at Geoffrey, disregarding his glower, “I would present to you an old acquaintance from France. A neighbor from my home in Calais whom I have known for many years. Sir Guy de Valere.” She tried to keep the exchange brief and to the point, but the lust for blood still shone in Geoffrey’s eyes. He must have seen her and Guy come from behind the dais together. Did he suspect her of making a tryst with the man? How could he believe she would do such a thing? What had she done to deserve such mistrust?

I pray such antics will cease when we are wed.

Her dance with Thomas was about to commence. Should she cry off and stay to calm the brewing storm?

Before she could open her mouth to suggest it, Thomas took her arm. “I believe you are now promised to me, my lady? I, too, am jealous of my time with you.”

Alyse gasped at his bold words, and darted a look at Geoffrey, fearing a murderous response.

He worked to compose his face, though his eyes shot daggers at his friend. “By all means, Thomas, avail yourself of my lady’s company in the dance.” His jaw twitched, as though he bit back other words. “I will find amusement aplenty here with Sir Guy.”

His words dropped a cold pall over her.

Oh, Lord, that bodes ill.

With a final fearful glance at the two men, she reluctantly allowed her partner to lead her to the floor. She could not stop herself from peering anxiously back at Geoffrey, still loath to leave him alone with Guy. She could only pray some friend would drag Geoffrey back to his table before he tried to kill the man.

“My lady.” Thomas spoke, and Alyse turned her attention to him as they took their place in line. “Will you still give me the honor of this dance? Or would you rather return to converse with your betrothed and Sir Guy?” Thomas managed an innocent look, although his eyes sparkled with merriment. “I believe that conversation will be highly entertaining.”

“In truth, Lord—” Thomas gave her a swift look of reproach. “Forgive me,
Thomas
.” She smiled at him, heat rising in her cheeks. “’Twill take me some time, I fear, before that name comes easily to my lips.” He grinned at her as they joined hands to begin the fast-paced
farandole
.

Perhaps the rapid dance, coupled with Thomas’s company, would keep her from worrying about the havoc brewing behind them.

Fortunately, the dance was a lively one. Alyse skipped and leaped with Thomas, pushing herself to keep the quick pace. She could not, however, completely forget her betrothed. When they reached the farthest end of the Great Hall, Alyse turned her head to where Geoffrey and Guy still stood talking. Oh, that she could be privy to that conversation!

She sighed, drawing a laugh from Thomas. The sound recalled her to her partner. This was the dance she had coveted since she arrived at court. She would not allow thoughts of Geoffrey to ruin it. Neither would she neglect her newest champion any further. Giving him her best smile, she redoubled her efforts to enjoy their time together. Eventually they slowed their steps in the second part of the dance, which allowed for more conversation.

“You seem distracted, Alyse,” Thomas remarked, when they finally had time to catch their breath.

“I must beg your pardon, Thomas. I have looked forward to this dance for several months, and now my fears about Geoffrey and Guy have not allowed me to enjoy it as I had hoped.” She smiled, though still panting with her exertions from the first figure.

He looked at her, head cocked. “My lady, you perplex me. I recall you asking for this dance scarcely an hour ago, yet you say you have anticipated it for months? Are the minutes of your life counted as days where I am concerned?”

She laughed, holding his hands and looking at him as the step demanded. “I speak only the simple truth, my lord. Ever since I came to court, I have waited for you to ask me to dance.”

His eyes widened, and he loosened his grip on her hands. She clutched them back as they prepared for the
farandole
’s third part. “You never did, so tonight I made bold to do so, thinking it might be my only chance. However, as fate would have it,” she smiled and nodded toward her betrothed, “I am distracted by whatever exchange Geoffrey and Guy are engaged in and cannot take the full pleasure.”

Thomas gazed at her, the lazy smile that had so often beguiled her on his lips. “My pardon, my lady—”

“Alyse,” she broke in, grinning mischievously at him as she turned the tables. “You promised to call me Alyse, Thomas.”

He laughed. “Aye, Alyse. My pardon, for the unforgivable sin of not asking you to dance these many weeks. I can give no reason, save idiotic folly, that kept me from your company thus. But I vow this will not be the last time we dance. May I not steal you again from Geoffrey after this?”

As the leading couple, they raised their clasped hands, forming an arch through which the remaining couples flowed.

Alyse sobered as she met his eyes overtop the bridge. “I fear not, Thomas, for the next dance is promised to Guy.”