Betrothal (Time Enough To Love) (5 page)

“How so, sir?” Her voice trembled, though her face remained composed.

“Why, with conversation, my lady. How else?”

Alyse released a sigh of relief and Geoffrey chuckled, for he had guessed the bent of her mind. Would that that knowledge could be gained tonight. An image flashed through his mind of Alyse, in his bed, licking…tasting…touching those red lips to his… He shook himself and suppressed the pleasant daydream.

“I presume from your sharp repartee with Thomas that you are both a scholar and a wit?” His mocking tone surprised him—a reaction, he supposed, to the unexpected skill she had shown in her use of language. He scowled. Unbidden, jealousy roiled in him at the memory of Thomas’s kiss on her hand. Such feelings were madness. His friend’s attentions were the courtly fashion—a game Geoffrey knew he played exceedingly well.

“Lady Alyse?” She had taken so long to reply Geoffrey had to ask again. “Do you attend me, my lady?”

The maid seemed to shake herself from a reverie and turned cautious eyes toward him. “Aye, my lord. I beg your pardon. My mind had… I am sorry, my lord.” She peered at him, pitiful and confused. “What did you ask of me?”

Geoffrey snorted. “I think I have my answer, lady, yet I will ask again. Are you both a scholar and a wit?”

She ventured a small smile. “’Tis hard to answer yea, my lord, having just proved my lack of wits to you. Yet I have some pretense to both charges when I am hard pressed, as you heard before with Lord Braeton.”

“Yes, you did acquit yourself admirably with Thomas.” Too well for his taste. “But do you not care to trade banter with me, lady? Our conversations so far have not shown me your great skills in wordplay. Would you deny me this pleasure with you?”

“Nay, my lord, I would deny you no pleasure.” Alyse stopped and clapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes widening in horror. Her face deepened to a brilliant shade of scarlet.

Geoffrey’s bench thumped down on the rush-strewn floor, his blood heating at the import of her words. “Indeed, my lady! Shall we retire at once to my chamber?” He tried to restrain a lecherous grin as he watched her fight to recall those words. She was proving excellent sport in her attempts to placate him.

“My lord, I did not mean…”

“Did you not, my sweet?” He leaned toward her, tempted to try to steal a kiss in the confusion. Not a prudent move, perhaps, but oh so enticing.

“Nay, my lord.” Alyse seemed to have recovered, for she sat straighter and gave herself a little shake. “As you see, my skills at wordplay do not seem to include banter with you. I know not why, but my wits scatter and the most unfortunate sentiments fly from my lips whenever I speak with you.” She refused to look at him, stared instead at the hands clenched tight in her lap. “I am sorry, my lord, if this displeases you.”

Restored to good humor, Geoffrey unclenched her hands and drew one into his. “Pay this no mind, sweet. Perhaps upon further acquaintance your wits will not flee you and we
will spar with each other in earnest.”

“Of course, my lord. Whatever you will.”

“Whatever I will, lady?” Geoffrey bit back a laugh as she snatched her hand from his and glared at him.

“If you insist on turning every chance word into a seduction, my lord, we will get nowhere this evening. I do not have all night to simply bandy words with you.”

“And what would you do instead, lady?”

“I would learn something of the man I am to marry in so short a time. You said that was your plan.” Alyse shot him a triumphant look.

“So I did. You would study me then?”

As she cast about for a rejoinder, dinner arrived, bringing her a slight reprieve. Geoffrey would have preferred to have her answer before she had time to think. She blushed so charmingly when flustered. But she took her time—tasting her roast venison and drinking some ale before composing herself to put a question to him.

“How long have you known of our betrothal, my lord? You seemed fully aware of the circumstances yesterday when we stood before the king.”

“My father mentioned it to me in passing several days ago, before I left Longford, though not to grant me any boon. A chance word allowed me the advantage, nothing more. He might as easily have left it to His Majesty to inform me, as your father did. But, yes, at least I knew your name.” Geoffrey smiled, remembering the other useful tidbits he had discovered about his betrothed from Thomas. “Father’s main interest lay in my new position in the princess’s household, secured from the king because of my betrothal.” Geoffrey raised his cup, now in no mood for smiles. “His only other observation hinted that we may ne’er see England more when we set sail.”

Alyse hesitated then ventured another question. “Does it sadden you, my lord, to leave England, perhaps forever?”

There seemed no reason to hide his dismay at the prospect. “It does, Lady Alyse, for I love nothing so well as my home here. The manor house at Longford was my boyhood home and the lands around it are most pleasant and familiar to me. They will pass to my elder brother, Roland, in any case, so I would have left them eventually.

“But now I have house and lands of my own in Derbyshire, a grant from the Earl of Derby for service to him and King Edward at Crecy. I worked there these last months to improve both, with an eye to residing at the manor when not at court or on campaign.”

He could see the small stone manor house in his mind’s eye. The sheep dotting the pastures around the quiet village of Broome. Bitterness welled that his work of the past months had been for naught. “That plan, it seems, is not to be. So aye, Lady Alyse, to exchange the lush English countryside for the hot, dry climes of Spain excites my heart not at all.”

“Then I am truly sorry, my lord.”

He scarce heard her small voice, so intent was he on remembering the meadows in bloom when he had ridden away five days ago.

“For your sake, I would wish it otherwise.”

Geoffrey recalled then that she, too, would be an exile. “You have no qualms at leaving your home for unknown Spain?”

Her face lit up and Geoffrey sucked in a sharp breath at the beauty before him. The same face, yet not the same, for her look resembled the one men sometimes got when the exhilaration of battle came upon them.

“I think ’tis different with women, my lord, for we are born to leave our homes. I left Beaulieu when I was but
a child, and although I have seen my parents from time to time, I have seldom resided at my birthplace for more than a fortnight since.

“As I told you at breakfast,” she smiled, and seemed to recollect their encounter with fondness, “I attended Lady Elizabeth from the age of seven years until I came here to serve the princess. To continue on to Spain seems not strange at all but exciting beyond belief. Perhaps ’twill be strange to stay there for many years, but that too may change. Only God can say.” She placed a hand on his arm, compassion in her voice. “But I am deeply sorry you must leave your home, my lord, since it is so dear to you
.”

“’Tis not your fault, little maid.” Geoffrey covered her hand with his and the warmth of her skin seemed to burn through him. “A soldier knows he must go where he is called, and though I am not called to fight, still I am in the service of the king and will go where he bids me. Though our fathers decreed we should marry, ’twas the insistence of the king that I go with you to Spain. Princess Joanna is loath to part with you.” He meant it as a compliment—that she was highly placed in the princess’s affections—but the dark, wide eyes in the pale, drawn face foretold some ill omen. He had to lean in to hear her low whisper.

“Then it
is
my fault you will be sent from your home.”

* * * *

Alyse stared at him, aghast at the disaster looming at the beginning of their marriage. How much would he resent her for wresting him from his home and country? Tears welled in her eyes. Had she not served the princess so well, perhaps she would not have been chosen to accompany her to Spain. A great honor, yes, but at what cost? And the fear of him she had begun to dismiss crept back. Would he punish her for his banishment?

The first tears brimmed over and trickled down her cheeks. Alyse raised a hand to shield this weakness from him. Tried to turn away. But, before she could even shift in her seat, he clamped a big hand on her shoulder. She stiffened, resisted, though she might as well have tried to fight upstream against a torrent. Relentless, he drew her around the end of the table until she pressed against his hard chest and his free hand guided her head to rest against his shoulder.

“Shh. Do not cry, sweet. ’Tis not your fault. Our fathers betrothed us. Neither of us had a choice in the matter.” His gentle tone belied his previous gruffness.

Her heart calmed a trifle.

He turned her head and she looked into clear, kind eyes. “For my part, Alyse, if I must travel hence to Spain, I can think of none other I would have accompany me as my wife.” He brushed the tears away with his thumb.

His compassion stunned her, as sweet as it was unexpected. Was this the same great oaf as yesterday? She blinked back tears and struggled to sit up, but Geoffrey held her close with unyielding arms. Somehow, his nearness did
not frighten her as much now.

“You are more than kind, my lord. You do me honor to show such consideration to the cause of your distress.”

Geoffrey’s lips grazed the top of her head, and he slid his arm from her shoulder to tighten around her waist. Shifting to accommodate their changed position, she reached around him in turn and gently grasped his waist. At her movement, his whole body tensed as though trying to turn to stone.

Alarmed, she pulled back and darted her gaze to his impassive face. “My lord? You are not pleased?”

More than a little wary, she waited while Geoffrey took a deep breath and his tension ebbed somewhat. His voice, nonetheless, sounded strained and husky to her ear. “Nay, Lady Alyse. You please me very well.” He disengaged her arm from his waist and leaned back and away from her. “However, as our marriage is not for almost a fortnight yet, the pleasure you have inspired in me is one we will have to await a little longer.” He traced the line of her jaw with the rough pad of his finger. “I must guard the virtue of my little maid, even from myself.”

“Another feat for Hercules, my lord?” She could not help a small, satisfied smile. “I assure you, you will have no cause to doubt your intended wife.”

Geoffrey groaned and shook his head. “I can see, my lady, your wits have indeed returned. And I am sure you will use them to charm your husband into granting your every wish. Yet,” he leaned closer and gathered both her hands, “what of your husband’s wishes?” He kneaded them, engulfing her tiny white hands in his darker ones, and set her stomach to trembling.

“But I have no husband yet, my lord.” Alyse’s voice threatened to die away completely as she struggled to keep her mind focused. The task became nigh impossible as Geoffrey raised her hands to his lips and caressed them with a burning mouth.

“I will be your husband shortly, Alyse. And you must know what my wishes are,
demoiselle
.” Indeed, he gave her no doubt as he trailed kisses across her palms and sent shivers dancing along her arms.

It took all her concentration to stutter a reply. “I…I will gladly do as my husband bids, when he is husband indeed.” Somehow, she managed to free one of her hands, which she placed boldly on his arm. “’Til then, my lord, I believe I must help you pass the time in some other merry manner.”

Geoffrey pushed his bench back and crossed his arms again. His mouth twitched, as if suppressing a smile. “How on earth do you intend make me ‘merry,’ when the one pastime I desire to engage in is forbidden?”

Alyse giggled, more lighthearted now than in the past two days. “I beg you to recall, my lord, that when you awoke but yesterday morn you had not even seen my face. I am sure there are other pleasant ways to while away the hours.”

One corner of Geoffrey’s mouth turned up and his eyes narrowed. “Perhaps I can amuse myself by instructing you on how to say my name, little maid.”

“My lord?”

“My name is Geoffrey, not ‘my lord.’ Geoff-rey.” He elongated the syllables, as if teaching a child to speak. “You have known it for some time but have yet to use it.”

Her wits had returned now that he no longer possessed her hands, and Alyse mulled his request over.

Perhaps I can indeed devise a pastime that will lead you a merry chase this evening, Sir Geoffrey.

“You would have me call you by your
name
, my lord?” She frowned and tilted her head from side to side, as if his request were strange or scandalous.

“Aye, madam, I have said as much. Were you again not attending me?” Geoffrey’s amused tone suggested he had expected as much.

“Oh no, my lord. I attended closely.” Alyse focused on his mouth, pretending to hang on every word. “I wanted to make quite sure I heard you correctly. You want me to call you by your first name?”

Geoffrey stared at her as though she were addled, and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to still her laughter. “Aye, lady, by my first name.”

“Your Christian name?”

“Lady Alyse!” His face settled into a scowl until she allowed her eyes to widen a touch as she gave him a slight smile. He fought to retain his stern visage but finally chuckled at her play and joined the game. “You have forgotten my name over soon, my lady. Has my witty conversation so diverted you that you cannot remember it?”