For Love And Honor (35 page)

“I had to keep warm for you,” he said,
struggling to remove the second tunic and kiss her at the same
time. “A cloak would get in the way.”

“In the way of what?” she teased. She looked
at him with a playful expression that he felt certain masked a
serious attack of trepidation. He was certain she was nervous
because he was quaking inside himself. He wanted her so much, and
he wanted to please her, and he was afraid he might fail.

They stood, finally, unclothed, two lovers
middle-aged by the standards of their own time, and yet oddly
untouched by the passage of years. His hair and beard might be
threaded with gray, but his broad shoulders and his arms were as
heavily muscled as those of a much younger man, his hard belly was
flat, his thighs and calves still strong and well fleshed.

Motherhood had given her a fuller figure, and
she was taller than she had been at fourteen. She was almost as
tall as Alain. Her breasts were heavier than the current ideal of
beauty, just the size to fit perfectly into Alain’s cupping hands.
He traced the glorious curve from bosom to slender waist, to gently
rounded abdomen to hip, and then caught her buttocks, pulling her
against his hardness. With a long, deep sigh she wound her arms
around his neck and held on to him.

The wonder of having her naked in his arms
blazed through Alain, immobilizing him until she threw back her
head to look at him. He saw her tongue come out and move slowly
around her parted lips; he saw her smile a slow, seductive
smile.

“Alain,” she commanded in a hoarse whisper,
“take me to bed.”

He lifted her and carried her the few steps
necessary, then laid her upon the new linen sheets. She drew his
head downward.

“Put your tongue in my mouth again,” she
whispered. “Kiss me, Alain. Teach me what to do with my
tongue.”

“Gladly.” He did not stop with kissing her
mouth. He drenched her in kisses, from her forehead to her toes and
back again. He touched her in places where, from her astonished
response, he knew she had never been touched before. He took her
hands and put them on himself, showing her how to give him pleasure
and, by so doing, to increase her own delight. He was a little
surprised at how innocent she still was. Then, later, he was even
more surprised at her eagerness.

“Alain,” she whispered when he knelt between
her thighs, “come to me.”

Uncertain if their coming together would hurt
her after so many years of abstinence, he tried to be slow and
careful. Nor did he want to rush his own pleasure. He had waited so
long to have her, and now he wanted it to be perfect for both of
them. He touched her, probing lightly with one finger. She cried
out and closed around him, lifting her hips to him, protesting when
he withdrew his hand. Her reaction was all the encouragement he
needed. He entered her slowly, easing into her warmth. She was
tight, and sweet, and moist with delicious longing. He pushed
deeper.

“
Alain.”
Her voice was a sigh, a moan of erotic delight, a fulfillment of
all his dreams, a consolation for the long years that had s
o
cruelly sepa
rated
them.

Looking
into her eyes, he saw there the reflection of his own soul’s
longing and knew that though she might try to hide it, she loved
him with the same unalterable passion that he felt. They smiled at
each other, hearts and bod
ies joined at
last. Tenderly they kissed, and looked into each
other’s eyes again, marveling at the wonder of their coming
together.

And then
she moved on him, and he lost all hope of containing his boiling
passion. He rode her hard, with a fiery, despe
rate need. She
matched
him, meeting every firm
thrust with her own eager movements, harder and ever harder. Alain
was by that time aware only of his clamoring, incredible desire to
have all of this woman, to make it impossible for any other man
ever to take her in this way. She was his –
his –
and he had waited so long for
her. He could not stop the triumphant shout he uttered at the final
moment. His body seemed to explode into exquisitely sensitive
fragments that only slowly came back together again, leaving him
still deeply embedded in Joanna’s yielding flesh, still hard and
moving, but more slowly now, and fully conscious of the lovely
pulsations of her innermost body.

The intense pleasure he felt did not stop; it
went on and on, and she was melting beneath him, sobbing and
gasping, and still the tremors inside her continued until he was
sobbing, too. In the end, when at last they lay exhausted on the
damp sheets, he could only pray that Rohaise had given Radulf extra
herbs to make him sleep soundly, and that the guard on the tower
steps was also fast asleep, so that neither of them had heard the
sounds of lovers coming together in a place where lovers should not
be.

*
* * * *

“Baird,” Owain, the lieutenant of the
men-at-arms called softly, “you had better come at once.”

“What’s wrong?” Baird kicked Lys out of his
way and rose from the pallet they shared. In the same quick
movement he took up his sword, girding it at his waist. “Is it an
attack?”

“
I don’t
think so,” Owain replied. “It’s something strange, and you said to
call you if we noticed anything out of the ordinary. Sir, there is
someone climbing down
from the western tower.”

“Is there, by God?” Baird was on his way
toward the inner bailey, with Owain following him. “What have you
done about it?”

“
I set an
extra man on the western wall, and another on the northern wall, to
watch him and discover where he goes, while the other guards
on
duty look for signs of
impending attack. “

“Well done. Rouse the second contingent, but
be quiet about it. There’s no sense in letting an enemy know when
we’re aware of him.” Leaving Owain to carry out his orders, Baird
went up the outside steps to the western battlements. Upon finding
the man Owain had set to watch the tower, he demanded in a low
voice, “Where is he?”

“The climber? There.” The man pointed. “One
arrow will take him.”

“Aye, and silence him, too,” Baird growled,
squinting into the shadows. “Radulf will want information, not a
dead body. Don’t let him out of your sight, and let me know at once
if he goes anywhere but around toward the northern wall.”

“D’you believe he’ll come in by the postern
gate?” the man asked.

“Why not? It’s how he got out. For the second
night.” Baird scanned the outline of the western tower, though he
knew its exact conformation. “There are just two places he could be
leaving: the lord’s chamber or Lady Joanna’s room.”

“Mayhap he’s done murder,” the man
gasped.

“Be silent, you fool.” Baird cuffed the man.
“If he’s done murder, then it’s too late to help the victim. All we
can do now is catch the killer, if that’s what he is. Stay at your
post and inform me of his movements when he reaches the
ground.”

Baird returned to the inner bailey, where the
sleepy men he had ordered called out were assembling.

“A fine lot of good you’d do in a surprise
attack,” Baird told them. “Pull yourselves together and form up in
two lines on either side of the postern gate. And be quiet about
it!”

While the men followed his orders, Baird
sprinted up the steps to the northern wall.

“Nothing yet,” the guard there replied to his
question. “Hah! Wait, see there.”

“I see.” Baird peered over the edge in the
direction where the man-at-arms was pointing at a figure skulking
along at the base of the wall. “Watch him. Don’t let him out of
your sight. Tell me at once if he doesn’t use the postern
gate.”

By now it was light enough to see more
clearly, and Baird noticed the guards on the western wall,
signaling frantically to him. With a wave of his hand to let them
know he understood, the captain of the guard once more descended to
the bailey and positioned himself beside the postern gate.

“Don’t move or make a sound until I give the
signal,” he told his men, aware that none would dare to disobey
him.

The first
rays of the midwinter sun were just gilding the roof of the western
tower when the postern gate opened silently. Down in the bailey
there was still not a lot o
f daylight, and the man entering
had emerged from the narrow passage
before he saw the guards awaiting him.

“So, I was right; you are a spy,” Baird said.
Alain went perfectly still at the sound of his voice. “Owain, take
our guest to the great hall. I will rouse Radulf and, by God,
Lucas, if I find you’ve murdered him in his sleep, I’ll see you
unmanned and disemboweled before I let you die, and I’ll do the
same to your friends.”

When Rohaise got to the great hall she found
Piers and Alain there before her, with Baird’s lieutenant Owain
guarding them. Baird met her at the entrance to the hall.

“Where is Radulf?” Baird demanded. “By God,
woman if you’ve harmed him -” He left the threat unfinished.

“I have done nothing to hurt Radulf,” Rohaise
said. A single glance at the guests who were now prisoners told her
it might be well to play for time. Any delay in whatever Baird
intended would give Piers and Alain a chance to think of a way to
save themselves. She gave Baird a conspiratorial smile and then let
the men-at-arms see it, too. Walking into the hall, she drew Baird
after her by speaking to him as she moved.

“You know how it is when a man returns home
after an absence from his wife. We were awake far into the night,
and I fear we both drank a bit too much wine. Radulf was still
sleeping when I left him.” To emphasize her suggestion that her
night with Radulf had been a passionate one, Rohaise slowly
stretched her shoulders and gave a sensuous yawn.

“Do not fret yourself, Baird,” she said.
“Radulf will rise when it suits him. Indeed, he has already risen
several times since his return.”

The men-at-arms began to laugh, and even
Baird was diverted enough to give her a knowing look. But the
horror on Piers’s face shook Rohaise. Surely, after their
conversation of the previous night, Piers would understand that she
was only pretending?

“Pleasant night or not,” Baird said, “we need
Radulf here, to judge these spies and tricksters and to decide upon
their exact punishment.”

“Punishment?” Rohaise cried. In her alarm for
Piers’s sake she forgot to try to look like a well-loved wife.
“What harm could these good folk possibly do to us?”

“
For one
thing,” Baird announced, pointing to Alain, “that slippery fellow
got into t
he upper tower last night. And the night
before.”

“What’s amiss here? Baird, what are you
saying?” Will came into the hall. Seeing Piers and Alain with their
guards, he asked, “Baird, are you preventing these men from leaving
as they planned to do?”

“Oh, they’ll leave,” Baird told him, “with
their bodies in a cart and their heads on pikes above the gate.”
Stalking across the hall to where Alain stood, Baird added, “How
did you get the postern key?”

“I stole it from you,” Alain said, laughing
in the man’s face.

“Impossible,” Baird growled. “I still have my
key. You either stole Rohaise’s key or she gave it to you. Which
would make Rohaise a traitor to her lord.”

At this, Rohaise felt a thrill of fear and
knew her own life was hanging from the same thread as Alain’s and
Piers’s. If Radulf believed Baird’s accusation, he would have no
compunction about punishing her, too. But Alain did his best to
remove her from suspicion.

“
It might
have been Rohaise,” Alain responded to the glowering Baird
wi
th a sly smile, “or it
could have been the lovely Lys. Are you sure your key never
left your possession, Baird? Can you be certain it’s not your woman
who’s the traitor?”

While Baird stared wordlessly at Alain,
Rohaise decided the time for action had come. Praying no one would
notice what she did, she returned to the entry hall. There, hiding
the movement of her hands by turning to one side and taking
advantage of the heavy folds of her woolen skirts, she hastily
pulled a key off her girdle. Back in the great hall she caught at
Will’s arm, pushing the key into his hand.

“No one knows I have this,” she whispered
urgently. “It’s an extra key to your mother’s room. Tell her she
must come to the great hall.”

“She will not,” Will said. “You know as well
as I do that she won’t leave her room.”

“If you want Lady Samira to live until
sunset,” Rohaise whispered fiercely, “then you will do as I say.
Free Joanna! Hurry, Will, and don’t let Radulf or anyone else stop
you.”

“Owain,” Baird ordered, breaking off his
angry contemplation of Alain’s mocking face, “watch Lady Rohaise.
Don’t let her leave the hall. And you, Garth, find Lys and bring
her here so I can have the truth out of her. I will rouse Radulf
myself, and I had better find him in good health.” With that, Baird
left the hall.

“Lady Rohaise,” Owain spoke to her more
politely than Baird had done, “I must ask you to join these
prisoners so I can more easily watch all of you.”

“Of course.” Rohaise stepped to Piers’s side.
“Good day to you, Sir Spiros. I do regret this imposition on your
patience and hope it will end soon so that all of you may continue
your journey.”

“Be quiet, please, my lady,” said Owain. “No
talking allowed.”

But Owain could not stop Piers from looking
at Rohaise, and what she saw in his face gave her the courage to
smile at him as if their sudden captivity was unimportant. She was
relieved to find, on glancing around the hall a few moments later,
that Will had disappeared.