For Love And Honor (42 page)

Alain recognized the look and braced himself.
When she sprang at him, raising her hands to scratch at his eyes,
he was ready for her. He caught her by the arms and flipped her
backward onto the bed, where he held her down with the weight of
his body. Her outraged scream he muffled with his mouth, kissing
her hard.

“Are you going to rape me?” she demanded,
still not entirely subdued. Alain was beginning to understand that
Joanna would never be subdued. He found the realization remarkably
exciting.

“I would never rape you,” he whispered, his
mouth on her throat. “However, I do plan to make you want me enough
to plead with me to take you.” His hands were in her hair, pulling
out the pins to release the golden waves and spread them over her
shoulders.

“I am very angry with you,” she said, but she
did not try to stop what he was doing.

“Good. I’m angry with you, too. And both of
us are still angry with Radulf.” He paused to look into her
troubled eyes. “Anger released can easily turn into passion. Let
your rage and your desire loose on me. No, don’t try to push me
away. I won’t be denied, Joanna, and if you were honest with
yourself, you’d admit you don’t want me to stop.”

While he spoke he was tearing off her
clothing and his own. She did not resist, but she did not help him,
either. When he had finished, he sank down beside her on the bed.
Seeing him already fully aroused, her eyes widened.

“
Yes,” he
whispered, hi
s hand on her breast,
“you remember the last time we lay together, don’t
you? And the very first time we made love, how wonderful it
was.”

“
Alain,
please, about William Crispin -” He kissed away whatever else she
might have said. His hands worked their
magic on her body,
his
kiss was deep and long, and
before it ended she was moaning. “Alain, Alain.”

“Say it,” he commanded. “Tell me you want
me.”

“I want you.”

“Where?” He teased with his fingers, knowing
full well where she wanted him and intending to deny her until she
was writhing with ecstasy and begging him to take her. He would
wait until she was throbbing with her own climax and he was
bursting with need of her. Then, and only then, would he thrust
into her as hard as he could to seek his release in her hot, dark
depths. Making love to her had been his dream for so many empty,
lonely nights, and this time he was going to do it the way he
wanted.

“I want you to lie on top of me.” Her
whispered request surprised him.

“I am much too heavy,” he protested.

“I don’t care. I want you inside me, and on
me, too. I want to feel all of you at once. Please, Alain.”

He removed his hand from between her thighs.
She cried out, looking at him with such longing that he gave up his
wish to master her. Whatever demons haunted her after her long
imprisonment, however changed she might be from the innocent
fourteen-year-old girl he had first desired, she was still Joanna,
and he loved her with all his heart.

She grabbed at his shoulder, tugging at him
until he shifted position. Still pulling him downward, she spread
her legs, inviting him. He entered her with a smooth, hard thrust
and then let his full weight settle over her. He rested there, his
body pressed against hers from toe to forehead, with her arms
around his waist to hold him tightly to her.

“
You were
right,” she breathed, “I am still angry with you, I’m furious, and
I want you so much
… so
much.”

Alain groaned with the effort of controlling
himself. Every part of his body was responding to the touch of her
skin. It was an incredible sensation. Then she was tightening
herself around him and moving with a wild, demanding heat that
seared his mind until he could no longer think at all and
self-control was out of the question.

“
I love
you,”
she whispered, and with those
sweet words in his ears he sailed with her into an
ecstatic union that lasted so long it finally left him weak and
drained and unable to move.

He did not know how much later it was when he
was able to gather enough strength to roll to one side and hold her
in a loose embrace. Later still, she spoke again.

“You must promise me you won’t tell William
Crispin until I decide it is time,” she murmured. “If you love me,
if you truly want to marry me, then you will agree that I, and I
alone, shall be the one to decide when to inform my son about our
betrothal. If you love me, you will try to understand how much it
means to me to be able to arrange my own life in the way I
want.”

“Will it always be like this?” he asked.
“Will you continually insist upon having your own way?”

“Perhaps not every time we disagree, but
often enough to irritate you, I am sure.” She touched his face with
tender fingers. “If we had wed while I was still an unformed girl
of fourteen, I might well have become the obedient wife a nobleman
expects. I have told you several times, I am that girl no longer.
If you want me for your wife, you must learn to deal with the woman
I am now.”

“
How can
you question my wanting you when I have waited so long for
y
ou?” Alain sighed,
wondering who had bested whom in their passionate contest
of bodies and determination. Then humor lit his eyes as he thought
about the future they would have together. “Of one thing I am
certain: You and I will never be bored with each other. When we are
old and feeble you will still be able to surprise and delight me,
my dear and only love.”

*
* * * *

Up on the walkway at the top of the castle
wall, Samira found Will staring into the blowing snow and gray
skies of a winter storm.

“Here’s your cloak,” she said, holding it out
to him. “You’ll freeze without it.” When he did not take the
garment she stood on tiptoe to lay it over his shoulders.

“Did you know about their plans?” he asked,
not looking at her.

“Rohaise called me to her room this morning.
She and my father told me then.” Samira paused, biting her lip, and
then revealed the rest of it. “They spent last night together,
Will.”

“What do you expect me to say to that?” he
demanded. “Did you think that piece of infor
mation would convince me to approve of this
proposed marriage? Rohaise is a
grandmother!
It’s shameful!”

“Only a step-grandmother,” Samira said with
wry humor. “Rohaise is just a few years older than Joanna. But I
know how you feel, Will. I was shocked at first, too.”

“I don’t suppose there’s a thing we can do to
stop their marrying?”

“Not unless you lock Rohaise up the way your
grandfather did Joanna. I don’t think you have the stomach for that
kind of prolonged cruelty. Let me warn you that if you try to harm
my father, you will have me to contend with, not to mention Theo
Alain and all his men.” Samira let the threat sink in for a while
before she asked, “Would it really be so terrible, to see Rohaise
happy? You do love her, don’t you?”

“I suppose I’ll have to accept their
decision,” Will said after a long silence.

“I think it would be wise.”

Will withdrew his gaze from the snowy
landscape to look at the girl beside him.

“Alain says Piers is clever. I think you have
inherited his cleverness, Samira.”

“My father claims that I more resemble my
mother. Have you forgiven me yet for deceiving you when we first
met?” she asked. “If you will but listen, I can explain, and
perhaps also make you understand why I will raise no protest over
my father’s decision to remarry.”

“I already know more than I care to know
about the events at Banningford.” Obviously he thought that would
be the end of their conversation. He turned one shoulder toward her
in dismissal. Samira would not allow it.

“You don’t know everything you should about
our reasons for what we did. You see, Will, it all began when my
dear mother died and I feared my father would die, too, of grieving
for her.” She went on, telling him her version of the events that
had brought her to England, omitting only the story of Alain’s love
for Joanna. That portion of the tale was Alain’s to tell, not
hers.

At first
Will seemed indifferent to her w
ords, and Samira wasn’t sure
he was paying attention
to her,
but soon he gave up his expressionless contemplation of the falling
snow. Leaning an arm on the edge of the wall, heedless of cold or
wind or snow, he listened with growing interest, even asking a
question now and then. He was particularly interested in the
details of her life in Sicily and in the exploits of Piers and
Alain while they were in service to King Roger. So engrossed in
Samira’s story were they that they noticed nothing beyond the spot
where they stood on the high walkway along the
battlements.

“Why, it’s almost dark,” Will exclaimed when
Samira stopped talking.

“You are covered with snow.” She began to
brush the white flakes off his shoulders.

“So are you. It’s in your hair.” His hand
glided over the top of her head and downward to her shoulder, then
around to the nape of her neck, showering snow away from her. They
grew still at the same moment, with her hand resting on his upper
arm and his fingers grasping the thick braid of dark hair that hung
down her back.

“I’m sorry I was angry with you,” Will said.
“I should have heard everything you had to tell me before I judged
your actions.”

“I am sorry it was necessary to deceive you,”
she replied. “Before we met you none of us knew how trustworthy you
are.” In the swiftly gathering dusk she could just make out his
face and see the snow collecting on his fair hair. She took her
hand off his arm, intending to remove the white dusting, but he
caught her fingers in his.

“Your hand is like ice. Samira, you must be
half frozen.”

“I don’t mind, so long as you believe
me.”

“I do. Every word. Now come inside and let’s
find a fire and some hot, spiced wine to drink while we talk some
more.”

*
* * * *

On the
morning after Twelfth Night, just as the inhabitants of Haughston
Castle were rousing themselves to aching heads and indigestion, and
swearing never again to eat or drink so much
–
no, not even when rowdy Twelfth
Night came
round again next
year – a single horseman bearing a royal pennant rode up to the
castle gate. He was admitted at once and taken to the great hall by
one of Alain’s men-at-arms, where he was met by Alain and
Will.

“I am sent with a summons from King Stephen,”
the newcomer announced. “Matilda’s son, Henry of Anjou, has
returned to England with an army. King Stephen calls upon all
nobles who are loyal to bring troops and join him. Our royal lord
is determined to defeat young Henry and thus end this long war once
and for all.”

“We must go,” Will said to Alain. “The Earl
of Bolsover used to say that for all Stephen’s faults, he is our
anointed king and we owe him our fealty. We have to defend him
against Matilda’s son.”

“I never had the opportunity to swear my oath
to him,” Alain replied, “but I will go with you all the same, and
take my men-at-arms to fight beside your men.”

“Somehow I knew you would.” Will put out his
hand and Alain took it, appreciating that Will was offering his
friendship.

“What’s happening?” Piers walked into the
hall. Upon being told the news, his response was similar to
Alain’s. “Only a few of the men who came with us are mine, but we
will all go with you, Will.”

They made their plans in haste, sending a
messenger to Banningford with orders for Owain to send a group of
men from there to a meeting-place along the road. Owain was to
prepare Banningford to withstand a siege if it should prove
necessary. The same orders were given to the captain of the guard
at Haughston. The king’s messenger was well fed before he was sent
on his way, to the other castles where he was to deliver the royal
summons to arms.

By then everyone at Haughston had heard the
news, and the ladies of the castle were deeply distressed.

“William Crispin, I wish you would not go,”
Joanna said. “Under the present circumstances, surely you can be
excused. You are needed here.”

“We leave at dawn, and I ride at the head of
my men,” her son responded. “Forgive me, Mother, but I cannot stay
to talk with you. I am busy.”

From Alain, Joanna received no more comfort
than Will had given her. She lodged her protest when he joined her
in her bedchamber after most of the castle was quiet for the
night.

“If we join Stephen and give him what support
we can,” Alain said, “he will feel obligated to withdraw the writ
of outlawry against us. Piers agrees with me that taking our men to
Stephen can only help our case.”

“You swore we would never be parted again,”
she cried, distraught with fear for him and for her son.

“I am doing this for us,” he declared. “For
my honor’s sake, so you won’t have to marry an attainted criminal.
Joanna, I don’t want to leave you, but I must. I beg you to
understand.”

“I think I do,” she said, trying to smile,
though her eyes were filled with tears. “If I want you to respect
the decisions I make, then I must give your choices equal respect.
Go then, my dear love, and I will pray for your safety every moment
until you return to me.”

“How brave you are, and how much I love you.
What I do in battle, I’ll do for love as well as honor,” he vowed.
“I will shed no more blood than I absolutely must.”

He caught
her to his heart, and while he kissed her she promised herself to
spend the re
st of the
night proving to him that he was everything to
her.