Love Never Lies (20 page)

“’Twas not the kind of satisfaction I had in mind. Take it from me,” Dominic turned with a chuckle to swagger down the hall. “Wealth will never buy you that.”

 
Fortin spun her around to face him, keeping a firm grip on her arms. “Stay away from my brother while he’s here. Do you understand? He tends to forget himself ere he drinks.”

Her hackles rose at his accusing tone, but with some effort she kept her tone light. “Then mayhap you should advise him to limit his consumption.”

“‘Tis not my place to judge how he wrestles his demons.”

“Or, are you too selfish to care?”

His eyes narrowed. “Are you saying I don’t love my brother?
If so, you’re mistaken.”

Isabeau lifted a brow at this startling revelation. Mayhap if pricked, he would actually produce blood. Up until now she had assumed him incapable of affection. ‘Twas good to know he loved someone. “Then why do you not speak with him? A wound festers if not exposed to air.”

“Mayhap you’ve heard another saying—you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink.”

“Might I suggest you…
”

“Nay you may not.” He dropped his hands, releasing her arms, a mocking smile playing about his lips. “Believe me when I say, ‘tis more complicated than that.”

She could not help but smile. “Strange, if I remember correctly, I said the same thing about my sister, but you weren’t inclined to listen then.”

“Nor am I inclined to now,” he said with gruff finality. “The hour grows late. Get thee to bed, ere I do what my brother advises and take what satisfaction I crave here and now.”

He did not have to tell her twice.

She spun on her heel and hastened down the corridor to her bedchamber. After ducking inside, she leaned against the door and took a long shuddering breath, trying to forget the desire in his eyes—the heat of it inches from her lips. How long before he forgot what her virtue was worth and his lust got the better of him?

She shivered.

But nay, ‘twas foolish to allow it to affect her so. Fortin was too greedy for that. If he were going to act upon his baser instincts and forfeit his precious ransom, he’d have done so already.

Wouldn’t he?

***

Dominic halted in mid-stride, sweat glistening on his brow from the weight of the log they carried. “Are you expecting guests?”

“Nay.
Does it look like I am?” Alec swung his end of the log just as Dominic slackened his grip. It landed on the bank of the river with a hollow thud, against the score of oak timbers they had already unloaded from the wagon.

“A party approaches on horseback.”

Alec shifted his gaze to where Dominic squinted into the distance to the South. Had there been any danger, one of the guards on sentry would have alerted them by now, which could only mean his neighbor Langley and his daughters had taken it upon themselves to arrive unannounced.

If so, he would send them on their way with all haste. He had neither the patience nor the time to play the merry host. His men were hauling more logs from the woods at this very moment, and he intended to see them unloaded before dark. He required at least two ships for trading
come
spring, and he had no intention of freezing his hands in the dead of winter to accomplish it.

As the party drew nearer the blue fish on their banner came into focus, fluttering against the cloud ridden sky.

Alec expelled a curse. “You told them about the tournament, didn’t you? You just couldn’t help yourself.”

“I may have mentioned it.”

“Mentioned it? You must have done more than mention
it,
else our sire and that witch wouldn’t have found their way here.”

“They were at court, paying their respects to the King soon after I arrived. How think you Beaufort’s man found me, if not for their loose tongues?”

Alec was not surprised. His father was ever eager to boast of his sons’ skill, not only Dominic, but he and Christian as well. The only thing his father liked better was to pit them against each other until they were at each other’s throats, frothing at the mouth to win his praise.

It caused much unrest when they were young, as they fought tooth and nail, attempting to prove
themselves
. ‘Twas not until many long lonely hours in the saddle, during the crusade, in a sandstorm separated from his party, suffering days and days of thirst and hunger when he experienced an epiphany, finally realizing the truth.

The only thing he had to prove was to himself. His brothers were not there to compete with him. He either fought to survive or died. It had nothing to do with anyone else.
Nor did the rest of his life.

In the end God was the only witness—the only force he must reckon with.

But old habits die hard, especially those instilled from birth. The sight of his father riding toward him made Alec fortify himself with a deep breath and straighten his back for the battle ahead.

He ran one hand through his sweat dampened hair.
“Gods teeth, Dominic!
That’s all I need right now.”

“Do you think I want them here—father breathing down my neck, when I have a tournament to fight?” Dominic mumbled a few curses of his own. “That’s why I’ve been happy to compete in Normandy whenever I could?”

Alec lifted one brow. ‘Twas not their father’s well-meant preaching on the art of warfare, but other matters that kept Dominic from home, namely the guilt of bedding his father’s wife.

Not that it was his fault. Neither of them knew their father had married that night they arrived home. He was planning to tell them the following morn—a surprise he’d said. ‘Twas certainly a surprise to Dominic, else he would not have lain with the bitch when she came to their solar.

But there was no time to discuss that now, with the cause of Dominic’s misery drawing closer by the minute on her dappled grey mare. “Tis a good thing Langley opened his hall for the celebration,” Alec said. “There’s no room for them here.”

“Good luck convincing our father of that.” A weary desperation clung to Dominic’s short laugh. “Give them my bedchamber. I’ll go to Langley’s instead.”

 
“Oh no, you’re not getting out of it that easy,” Alec told him. ‘Twas high time Dominic faced his fears. “Besides, ‘tis unlikely Abigail will desire to stay. Highburn lacks the splendor she’s accustomed to. One look at the place and she’ll head her palfrey south as fast as she came.”

At least, he prayed she would.

***

“Move your prisoner then,” Abigail said with a dismissive wave. How was it that they were even having this conversation? “Let her sleep in the hall with the other serfs. Your father and I’ll take Dominic’s chamber. He can have the one she’s in.”

“I’m afraid not,” Alec said smoothly, barely sparing her a glance. “She’s a lady. Her station demands better treatment than that.”

 
Abigail regarded him down the length of her nose from the other end of the high table, trying not to let his cold arrogance get under her skin. After traveling all this way to see Dominic, she wasn’t about to be parted from him now. “Then put her in your bedchamber on a pallet. If her virtue’s her worth, ‘tis the best way to guard it until her family arrives with the ransom.”

Dominic and Alec exchanged glances over the top of their father’s head.

“One would think you don’t want us here.” She gave a little sniff for good measure,
then
turned to her husband with her lower lip thrust forward in a well practiced pout. “Are you not insulted, my dear Darcy, at Alec’s lack of welcome after traveling so far just to visit him.”

Darcy lifted a brow beneath his short-cropped head of black hair before piercing her with his cool blue stare.
“’Twas your idea to drag me half across the country without sending word first.
Serves you right, if you’re shuffled off to the closest neighbor’s bed.
Alec’s busy building his ships. Dominic has a tournament to prepare for.”

She ignored the note of pride in Darcy’s voice, giving a toss of her head. “There, you see!” The sudden movement sent her heavy coil of dark brown braids off balance, causing a pain to shoot up her neck. Her voice rose to a squeal. “Your father is insulted. For shame on both of you, for not offering him the proper welcome he deserves.”

“Cease your prattling, woman,” Darcy said with a low growl. “’Twill all be settled in due course. You’ll not be forced to sleep with the hounds.”

Abigail flashed her husband a sharp look under her lashes at his reprimand. She had forgotten how puffed up and boorish he became in the presence of his sons. Well, let him stride about like the proud cock. Mayhap the exertion would prove too great for his old heart and it would finally give out as she had so long wished.

But that would be too much to hope for.

Though twice her age, he had the spleen of a man half his age. No one would know to look at him he was two score and seven. His organs must be as leathery as his skin.

Curse him for living well past his prime.

And curse him twice for having the handsomest sons in all of Cornwall when she was chained to him. ‘Twas them she imagined when he rode her, huffing and puffing, sweat trickling down his chin. If only her father had seen fit to betrothe her to one of them. She would not need to take such risks to sate her lust with other men.

Christian, his eldest son, was too bewitched by his new wife to spare her more than a passing glance, and Alec had always treated her with cool civility. She could not count on either of them to provide for her security when Darcy breathed his last.

But, Dominic’s blood still burned for her as it had that night when they made love in his solar. Why else did he go to such great lengths to avoid her, if not to save
himself
the pain of desiring a woman he could not have.

Yea, he still wanted her, she was sure of it.

All he needed was a little convincing.

***

Isabeau hastened up the backstairs, desperate for a good scrub. After organizing the storeroom off the kitchen all afternoon with Myrtle, she looked a fright, her gray kirtle smeared with grime, musty cobwebs clinging to her sleeves. If she hurried she might sneak a quick dip at the bathhouse before Fortin and his men returned.

If only she could go to the river to bathe. She and Nicola had often bathed and swam in the small lake near her uncle’s fortress, until Barak got wind of it and Nicola refused to take the chance of him discovering them.

Isabeau had offered to help scrub the laundry, but Myrtle forbade it, saying in no uncertain terms was she to leave the courtyard, or Fortin would have her head.

She let go a long sigh as she pushed opened the door to her solar.

The sight she beheld made her suck the same air she’d released right back in.

The chamber was all but empty, her casket of clothes as well as her personal affects missing.

Her heart gave a leap.

Had her ransom arrived?

She prayed not, for it was too soon for Nicola to have responded to her plea.

Which could only mean, Barak had come.

Dominic’s appearance in the doorway gave her a start.
“My pardon for inconveniencing you.”
He offered an abashed smile. “I offered to go to Langley’s, but Alec would not hear of it.”

Isabeau stared back at him stupidly. She had no idea what he was talking about, but her heart began to slow, sensing it had nothing to do with her and the arrival of her ransom. She moved aside to allow Dominic’s squire to pass, lugging his hauberk in one hand and helm in the other. “Has Lord Beaufort returned?”