Lord of a Thousand Nights (41 page)
Read Lord of a Thousand Nights Online
Authors: Madeline Hunter
“I am fortunate that you never were swayed by such misplaced logic.”
“Well, I was never very logical where you were concerned. You have a talent for making philosophy the last thing on a woman's mind.”
He pulled her into an embrace, laying her along his length so that her toes tickled his shins and her breasts pressed against the firm warmth of his chest. With kisses and caresses he lured her back to the sensual dream they had recently left.
Abruptly, his hands stopped and his expression turned alert and concentrated. “A horse. Someone comes.” He slid her away and knelt. “Cover yourself, Reyna. We have a visitor.”
She had just pulled on her shift when the horse approached. She smoothed the garment down and blushed up at the smiling face of the Comte de Senlis.
“I have intruded,” David said while Ian pulled on the old cut chausses. “I apologize, Reyna. They said at the keep I would find Ian here, and I am only passing by.”
“I am the one you should apologize to, but it is good to see you. And this is an odd place to pass by, David, since we are on the route to nowhere,” Ian said.
David swung off his horse, and Ian glanced pointedly at Reyna's gown. She bent and snatched it up.
David made a casual gesture. “Do not bother, my lady. I'll only stop a moment, and then you two can return to
your play.” He settled himself down on the grass beside Ian. “I am on my way to Harclow and then Carlisle. Christiana and I will sail to London soon, and from there to France. On my way back from Glasgow I sidetracked to see Duncan. I just came from there. It was a pleasant visit. I informed him of how things stand between Morvan and the Armstrongs, and slipped in some words about Aymer's kidnapping the ladies. Duncan knew nothing about it, and I thought his fury at his son would bring the hall beams down on us.” He smiled. “I do not think that you will have trouble from that side for a few years, as long as Duncan lives.”
“You went there from Glasgow? It is done then?” Reyna asked.
“Very done. The bishop received the books and gold, and gladly accepted your instructions as to their use. He appears a good man, and I think none of that gold will find its way to paying for his own comfort, which is always a danger with bishops.”
She knew that if he had sensed otherwise he might not have delivered the treasure to that particular bishop at all. Nor would she and Ian have objected. In entrusting him with that duty, they had accepted his judgment.
“And Edmund?” Ian asked.
“Ah. Well, there was a little trouble there. Edmund is dead.” He looked at Ian directly, his expression inscrutable. “It happened on the way north. Because of the gold, we took less-traveled routes, high roads mostly. On one particularly treacherous path, his horse lost its footing. The fall was steep.” He paused. “A tragedy. Under the circumstances, however, it hardly seemed worthwhile to mention any of his crimes to the bishop, so the
whole story of Robert and the Templars and the source of the gold never was explained. I think that the bishop will be grateful for that. It would have been difficult to battle the Hospitallers over their claim to that property, if Edmund had decided to tell all and bargain for his life.”
Reyna looked at Ian, who carefully studied their guest.
“We must thank you for your aid in this, David,” Ian said. “It has delayed your return to London by several weeks, and dragged you all over southern Scotland.”
“Merchants are accustomed to travel.” He turned to Reyna. “Christiana charged me to remind you that we will return to London in the spring. She expects to see you there. And Lady Anna insisted I add that unless a birth is imminent, you are not to let Ian stop you from coming if you are with child.”
Ian groaned. “That woman. I swear it is her quest to subvert all men.”
“Nay. She just knows her strength and her worth, as your nymph knows hers. I doubt that Reyna needs any instruction from Anna.”
Reyna blushed at this peculiar compliment. David rose and brushed off his garments. “I must go. Morvan and Anna will stay at Harclow at least another month before they sail for Brittany. I'm sure he will visit before he leaves. He has arranged for one of his knights to stay as seneschal, but he will rely on you to keep an eye on things, Ian.”
They accompanied him back to his horse, where he opened one of the saddlebags. “This had been packed on a separate horse from the others, and I forgot about it while I was in Glasgow. You will have to keep it until
someone goes north again.” He pulled out the thick
Summa
by Aquinas and placed it in Reyna's arms.
Startled, she stared down at the huge tome cradled against her breasts. “We should really—”
“It is the one work the abbey school is sure to already own, my lady. It will not be missed.” He swung up on his saddle and bent to clasp Ian's hand. “Until the spring, then.”
They watched him trot toward the men and banners waiting in the distance. “I wonder if it was really an accident. About Edmund, I mean,” Reyna said.
Ian's gaze had not left the group turning now toward the moss. “I'm sure it was an accident.”
“Fortuitous, then.”
“Some justice at least.” He looked down at the book. “It may be a long while before I travel to Glasgow. Years.”
“Something else to do on long winter nights.”
“Aye, we can discuss philosophy part of the night and make love the rest. I might have never given it up if such a reward had waited in my youth. I shall have to finish rereading it, though, if I am to hold my own with you.”
He led her back to their bed of grass. She sat cross-legged and opened the tome on her lap.
“Half the time for the mind, and half for the passions. That sounds like a fair division, Ian.”
“I said part, not half. I have no intention of being fair. Especially not right now, since I think it is time to rebalance the scales that you tipped at Harclow.”
He stood by her shoulder. She glanced up. From beneath those feathered lashes, the Lord of a Thousand Nights looked at her. His expression made her tingle with anticipation. Nay, he was not going to be fair at all.
He removed the book from her arms and set it aside on the ground. Taking her hand, he pulled her back up on her feet. He stepped to where he could see all of her.
“Remove your shift, Reyna.”
M
ADELINE
H
UNTER'S
first novel was published in 2000. Since then, she has had fif-teen historical romances and one novella published, and her books have been translated into five languages. She is a five-time RITA finalist, and won the long historical RITA in 2003. Twelve of her books have been on the
USA Today
bestseller list, and she also has had titles on the
New York Times
extended list. Madeline has a Ph.D. in art history, which she teaches at an eastern university. She currently lives in Pennsylvania with her husband and two sons. Readers can contact Madeline through her website
www.madelinehunter.com
.
Read on for a sneak peek at the next scintillating historical romance by
Madeline Hunter
SECRETS
of
SURRENDER
Coming in June 2008
SECRETS OF SURRENDER
On sale in June 2008
CHAPTER ONE
M
iss Longworth walked beside him like a queen. Kyle admired how well she hid her humiliation. No one else saw the moistness in her eyes.
She almost broke once the doors closed behind them. Almost. One long pause in her steps, one deep inhale, and she walked on.
She refused to acknowledge him. Of course not. She was in a very vulnerable position now. They both knew she was at his mercy. The amount he had bid gave her good reason to worry.
Nine hundred and fifty pounds. How impulsively reckless. He had been an idiot. The alternative had been to allow that sordid auction to take its own course, however. Fat, pliable George would not have won, either.
Sir Maurice Fenwick had been determined to have her, and the way he examined the property for sale did not speak well of his intentions. Sir Maurice's dark excesses were infamous.
“I called for my carriage,” he said. “Go up with the footman here and pack. He will carry your baggage down. Be quick about it.”
Her posture straightened more, if that was possible. “I will not need to pack. Everything up there was ill-gotten, and I want no reminder of the man who gave it.”
“You have more than paid for every garment and jewel. You would be a fool to leave them behind.”
Her exquisite face remained calm and perfect, but the glint in her eyes dared him to make a horrible night worse.
“As you wish.” He shrugged off his frock coat and placed it around her shoulders. He beckoned her to follow him.
“I am not going with you.”
“Trust me, you are. Now, before Norbury thinks twice about allowing it.”
She kept her gaze skewed to the side of his head. She might have been looking past an obstructing piece of furniture.
He admired her pride. Right now, however, it was ill timed and a nuisance. He wondered if she realized how perilous her position had been back there— and still was.
“I am sure you know that I did not agree to that spectacle, Mr. Bradwell.”
“You didn't? Well, damnation. How disappointing.”
“You sound amused. You have a peculiar sense of humor.”
“And you have chosen a bad time and place for this conversation.”
She refused to budge. “If I go with you, where will you be taking me?”
“Perhaps to a brothel, so you can earn back what I will be paying Lord Norbury. To be deprived of both the price and the prize doesn't seem fair, does it?”
Her attention abruptly shifted to his face. She tried to
make her gaze disdainful, but fear showed enough to make him regret his cruel response.
“Miss Longworth, we must leave now. You will be safe, I promise.” He forced the matter by placing his arm behind her shoulders and physically moving her out of the reception hall.
He got her as far as the carriage door before she resisted. She stopped cold and stared into the dark, enclosed space. He forced himself to be patient.
Suddenly his frock coat hit him in the face. He pulled it away and saw her striding down the lane, into the night. Her pale hair and dress made her appear like a fading dream.
He should probably let her go. Except there was no place for her
to
go, especially in those flimsy slippers women wore to fancy dinners. The closest town or manor was miles away. If something happened to her—
He threw the coat into the carriage, called for the coachman to follow, and headed after her.
“Miss Longworth, I cannot allow you to go off on your own. It is dark, the way is dangerous, and it is cold.” He barely raised his voice but she heard him well enough. Her head turned for a quick assessment of how close he was, then snapped left and right as she sought an escape.
“You are safe with me, I promise.” He walked more quickly, but she did too. She angled toward the woods flanking the lane. “Forgive me my crude joke. Come back and get into the carriage.”
She bolted, running for the woods. If she reached them he'd be searching for her for hours. The dense trees allowed little moonlight to penetrate their canopy.
He ran after her, closing fast. She ran harder when she heard his boots nearing. The scent of her fear came to him on the cold breeze.
She cried out when he caught her. She turned wild, fighting and scratching. Her fingers clawed his face.
He caught her hands, forced them behind her back, and held them there with his left hand. He imprisoned her body with his right arm and braced her against him.
She screamed in fury and indignation. The night swallowed the sounds. She squirmed and twisted like a mad-woman. He held firmer.
“Stop it,”
he commanded. “I am not going to hurt you. I said that you are safe with me.”
“You are lying! You are a rogue just like them!”
All the same she suddenly stilled. She gazed up at him. The moonlight showed her anger and anguish, but determination entered her eyes.
She pressed her body closer to his. He felt her breasts against his chest. The willing contact startled him. He reacted like any man would, instantly. His erection prodded her stomach.
Jesus.
“See. Just like them,” she said. “I would be a fool to trust you.”
He barely heard her. Her face was beautiful in the moonlight. Mesmerizing. A moment stretched while he forgot what had led to this crude embrace. He only noticed every place where they touched and the softness of the body he held. Thunder rolled in his head.
Her expression softened. A lovely astonishment widened her eyes. Her lips parted slightly. The fight completely left her and she became all pliant womanhood in his arms.
She stretched toward the kiss he wanted to give her, and the moonlight enhanced her perfection even more.
Suddenly it also revealed her bared teeth aiming up at his face.
He moved his head back just in time. She used the opportunity to try to break free again.
Cursing himself for being an idiot
again
, he bent down and rose with her slung over his shoulder. Her fists beat
his back. She damned him to hell all the way to the carriage.
He dumped her into the carriage and settled across from her.
“Attack me again and I will turn you over my knee. I am no danger to you and I'll be damned if I will let you claw and bite me after I paid a fortune to save you from men who are.”
Whether his threat subdued her or she just gave up, he could not tell. The carriage moved. She was no more than a dark form now, but he knew she watched him. He found the frock coat buried amidst his rolls of drawings and handed it to her. “Put this on so you are not cold.”
She obeyed. Her fear and wariness filled the air for several silent miles.
“Nine hundred and fifty was a high amount to pay for nothing,” she finally said.
“The alternative was to let a man pay a lot less for something, wasn't it?”
She seemed to shrink inside the frock coat. “Thank you.” Her gratitude came on a small, trembling voice.
She was not weeping, although she had good cause to. Her pride, so admirable thirty minutes ago, now irritated him. The burning scratches on his face probably had something to do with that.
He wondered if she understood the consequences of this night. She had dodged a man's misuse, but she would not escape the ruin coming when the world learned of that party and that auction. And the world
would
learn about it, he had no doubt.
Perhaps now, in the calm after the storm, she was assessing the costs, just as he was assessing his own. Norbury had been angered by his interference. He had not liked his fun spoiled and his revenge made less complete. The Earl of Cottingford might be the benefactor, but his heir now held the purse strings and influence.
“I apologize for losing my head.”
“It is understandable after your ordeal.” It still impressed him, how well he had learned the lessons and syntax of polite discourse. They had become second nature, but sometimes the first nature still spoke in his head.
Damn right you should apologize.
“I am so fortunate that you arrived. I am so glad there was one sober man there, who would be appalled at what Norbury was doing, and immune to his evil lures.”
Oh, he had been appalled, but not nearly immune. He had paid a fortune, after all.
A few speculative images entered his head regarding what he would have been buying if he were not so damned decent. That embrace on the lane made the fleeting fantasy quite vivid.
He was glad for the dark so she could not see his thoughts. He could not see her face, either, which was for the best. She possessed the kind of beauty that left half a man's soul in perpetual astonishment. He did not like that kind of disadvantage.
“May I ask you some questions?” She sounded very composed again. Damnably so. The lady had been rescued, as was only her due. She would sleep contentedly tonight.
He would not. The costs of this chivalry, in money and other things, would be calculated over and over for days. Already the sum was growing in his head.
“You may ask anything you like.”
“The amount of your bid was an odd one. A hundred would have been enough, I think.”
“If I had bid a hundred, Sir Maurice would have bid two hundred, and by the time we were done the amount might have been much higher than I paid. Thousands, perhaps. I bid very high to shock the others into silence.”
“If he would have bid thousands, why would he not bid one thousand?”
“It is one thing to jump from one hundred to two, then to four, and then on up. It is another to jump from seventy-five to a thousand. It would have had to be a thousand, of course. Nine hundred seventy-five would sound small and mean.”
“Yes, I see what you mean. Bidding a thousand so soon or right away would give anyone pause. It is such an undeniably foolish amount.”
So was nine hundred and fifty, especially if you barely had it. A year ago he could have covered it easily enough, although few men would not notice the depletion of their purses. A year hence he probably could too. Right now, however, paying Norbury would make somewhat shaky finances wobble all the more.
He hated that feeling of insecurity. He hated the caution and worry it bred. Miss Longworth had chosen a bad time to need rescuing. It had been the only thing to do, however. He wanted to believe he would have done the same for any woman.
Of course, she was not just any woman. She was Roselyn Longworth. She had been vulnerable to Norbury's seduction because she had been impoverished by her brother's criminal acts. He did not miss the irony that Timothy Longworth had, in a manner of speaking, just managed to take yet more money from Kyle Bradwell's pocket.
“You are aware, I think, that I will never be able to pay you back nine hundred and fifty pounds. Do you hope that I will agree to do so in other ways? Perhaps you expect me to feel an obligation and thus remove the question of importuning.”