Rose of Hope (17 page)

She closed her eyes and threw back her head, hands clenched against her temples. “Where is justice? I had thought, if perforce I should ever gain my freedom, never to wed again, for I have no wish to have my life, my person and my liberty once more at the mercy of a man! I wish but to live in peace, in my own home.”

Oh, for mercy! How can I deal with this now, with grief for Angelet filling my soul nigh to bursting?

Only slowly did she master the maelstrom of emotion. She opened her eyes once more and sighing, moved to stand in front of the dark knight, only inches from his chair. Defeat burned in every taut line of her stance. She knew it, but was too weary to hide it. Mayhap, the man before her would be kind. He watched her, and she wondered at his thoughts.

She sat and held her hands close to the brazier. She had not realized how cold they were.

“I fear to force William’s hand against me a second time.” Her eyes lifted to his. “Answer me this, my lord, and I would have the truth, if you know it. When William forced me to wed Renouf, knew he the man’s true nature?”

Fallard shook his head. “I know not. ’Tis possible. ’Tis certain he believed Renouf would remain loyal, or he would never have awarded him Wulfsinraed. William can be ruthless when he thinks it justified, but he is weary of war and rebellion, and wishes for peace in his domain. To that end, he believes the sacrifice of a village worth the good of the whole kingdom, and the death of an individual worth the lives of a thousand others. ’Tis possible he wished to use Renouf to make an example of Wulfsinraed to other rebellious fiefs, and that he hoped, in so doing, to quell further insurrections. ’Twould not be the first time he has used such tactics.”

“And what of you, Thegn D’Auvrecher? Are you also in agreement with this policy of sacrificing the few for the greater good of the kingdom?”

***

Fallard sought an honest answer, for he demanded truth from her and determined to give the same. “I know the tactic works, my lady. But I am not king, and I know not to what lengths I might go if such were the only way to achieve peace. I do know I would wish not for my kingdom to be ever torn with bloodshed and strife.”

He paused, his eyes idly tracking a tiny spider working its way across the floor at his feet. In his heart, he condoned not all his sovereign had done. He had been displeased by the action William had taken against the rebellious northlands some three twelvemonths after his coronation. The king had ordered nigh annihilation not only of the population, but also a calculated desolation of the land itself so complete that ’twould be long ere aught grew there again.

He was grateful he had been not one of the captains whom William had ordered to put entire villages to sword and fire, commanding that all that breathed therein be slaughtered, even the animals. He had wondered, more than once, if he would have obeyed such an order, but hoped he would not, though his own life might have been forfeit had he refused. He believed not the innocent should be made to suffer for the guilty, yet uncounted thousands of innocents who died not in the fighting, later died of starvation and disease in the months that followed. The harrowing was a black stain on William’s reign, and one that might never be erased.

He raised his head and said with slow deliberation, “If ’twas my decision, I could wish that measures of such nature would be not necessary. I would seek first to use any and all other less drastic means of persuasion.”

Ysane nodded, apparently satisfied with his response. Her tone subdued, she said, “From your announcement earlier, I conclude you have reached a verdict regarding the question of my supposed treason.”

“You are guiltless. We will wed. The time between now and then will be set aside for preparations for the ceremony and the feasting to follow. You have a syrce of green velvet. ’Twould please me if you would wear it for the ceremony.”

She started at the abrupt change of subject. “You have looked in my clothing chests?”

She sounded uncertain if she should be offended or amused.

Fallard grunted. “Nay. ’Twas your sire’s mother who suggested it, though I admit I once saw you wear it, before the battle. She said with much fervor the color intensified the fire of your eyes and enhanced the purity of your skin.” He shrugged. “I but concurred.”

She blinked at him. “My Ieldramodor—my father’s mother—
spoke
to you? But, she speaks to no one but Marlee, her maid and to me, since my father’s death.”

“I assure you, I speak no lie. I came upon her that first day in the guest bowers, but I saw her not again until two days ago. I was exploring the storage recess behind the hoarding room and she appeared as if conjured from the air. Gave me quite a start.” The corners of his eyes crinkled. “She asked if I was to wed you, and when I told her I was, she said ’twas a good thing, and then mentioned the emerald gown before slipping out the door. She seems to have taken a liking to me, or at least, she
dislikes
me not.”

Ysane stared at him from the storm-clouded depths of those big eyes, so brilliant a green, then shook her head. “I believe it not. How is it you charm the very folk closest to me, who owe me their allegiance?”

Fallard leaned to close the distance between them and took her face between his hands. He waited.

When she quivered, but pulled not away, he bent to brush her lips with his in a caress as soft as the touch of a butterfly’s wings. “’Tis my intent the allegiance of all shall be to
us
, not only to me. I offer you my word, Ysane Kenrick-daughter, as a knight of William, I will never lift a hand against you. I will honor you, and respect your wishes as far as ’tis possible, and I will insure all others do the same. I will do all in my power to protect you and keep you safe. You need have no fear of me, lady. I will hurt you not. I will allow you time to grieve for your daughter, and if you wish, time to grow accustomed to me ere I take you to my bed. Know this, too. Ever will I speak truth to you, and that no matter the cost. Do these provisions seem acceptable to you?”

She looked startled, as well she might, and even as he spoke the words, Fallard wanted to take back certain among them.

What do I do, promising I will bed her not until she is ready? What if she is never ready? Fool that I am, I have given my word and now can take it not back. Mayhap, I have condemned myself to suffer overlong as a monk. The little siren has bewitched me. Now ’twill be a fight to woo her to my hand.

“You are gracious beyond my expectations, my lord. Aye, your words are acceptable.”

Of a certainty, she would believe so. ’Tis to her advantage. I am a fool, but mayhap, this one concession will not rebound upon me for ill. Mayhap, she will take it as a symbol of my regard, and hold me not to it. And mayhap, I am a lackwit.

“Then we should do well together,” he said. “My name is Fallard, Ysane. I would hear it from your lips.”

“Very well…Fallard.”

“There now, that was not so very difficult, was it?” He smiled and drew her into his lap. She was such a little thing. He lifted her as easily as he would a child. He traced the length of her nose, the shape of her chin, the elegant curve of a brow, then bent to kiss her.

“Nay, please!” She stiffened. Her lashes fluttered as she ducked her head.

Fallard groaned inwardly and drew back. “Your wish is my command, Ysane.”

He set her from him, and hid his frown when her face nigh crumpled, awash with relief. He silently cursed Renouf, the fool’s vow he had made, the firelight that burnished her skin and the sweet scent of roses wafting from her skin. He all but leapt from the chair, needing distance between them, for he was rather too much distracted by the sweetness of her smile and the feel of her pliant form against his own hard frame. Aye, and such tempting softness it all was—soft lips, soft hair, soft skin, and soft curves. As a virile man who had lived too long without a woman’s touch, he was sorely tried. He paced to the other side of the room, lest he forget himself and frighten her anew with his rampaging desire. He opened the shutters to let in the night breeze. ’Twas entirely too warm in the chamber.

“By the by….” His lust under his control once more, he turned back to her. “Has the Lady Roana spoken yet of her wedding to my First?”

Her expression answered his question. He allowed a grin. “They are to speak their vows at the same ceremony with us. Does that please you?”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Ysane wondered how many more surprises she must endure ere the day was out, though his promise to force her not to his bed was an oath she found much to her liking. Nor was a wedding between her kinswoman and the silver-haired knight unexpected, given Roana’s oddly affectionate behavior with the man—and his with her.

“This wedding you speak of. ’Tis in accordance with Roana’s wishes?”

“’Tis in accordance with both of their desires. I do recall my First mentioning something about ‘love at first glance’.”

“Then I wish her all joy, and aye, ’tis pleasing she will stand at my side to speak her vows.”

And I will speak with her first, for I will not have her coerced.

Fallard cocked his head to one side. There was that in his eyes that made her wince.

Already, he comes to know me, and learns to recognize when I hide that which I want him not to know. A pox on the man! I must take more care.

“Methinks I sense reservation behind your agreement, Ysane. Have I told you not I will never lie to you, that you may always trust my words?”

She searched his face, his eyes, wanting to believe, yet the old fear still held her in thrall. A few sweet words, no matter how well spoken, could erase not the torment of twelvemonths.

“I believe you. At least with my mind, I believe you mean what you say.” ’Twas truth. She did. “But I must ask…I mean, I would pray your patience, that you would find it…that you…oh, that you would be willing to give my heart time to catch up with my mind.”

His grin was infectious. Despite herself, she responded with a timorous smile of her own.

“You may have all the time you need, little rose, so long as you do learn I may be trusted to keep my word.”

“Then I will try, Fallard.”

“That is all I ask.”

***

Fallard could resist not the impulse to bring her softness back into his arms. At first, she stiffened, and seemed to withdraw, and he thought to release her, but she yielded. As his strength swept round her, she trembled, but he cradled her as gently as he could. She offered neither resistance nor encouragement as he brushed his lips upon hers. The kiss began tentatively, lightly as mist. But as her lips moved, the embrace flamed, suddenly, wildly. In an instant, all intent to go carefully with her dissolved beneath an avalanche of heated craving.

She moaned in protest, and her hands sought to push him away. But even as he fought to free her while he still could, her struggles again ceased, and she went still, then leaned into his strength. Triumph, hot as his desire, blazed through him and his arms tightened, gathering her more closely against him as he plundered her soft lips with a fierce and startling hunger he had never before known.

His hand slid beneath her hair to cradle her head and hold her more securely for his deepening assault on her senses. Her arms slid around his neck. She clung to him, and rose up on her toes to better accommodate the fit of her body to his. Dazed, he realized she kissed him back with a fervent need that matched his own. He opened his eyes to find hers closed. He doubted she knew even what she did. Her countenance blazed with a hunger he shared. He shuddered at the sight. This unexpected fire between them, it overwhelmed them both.

He was losing control. He was going to take her, now, and he knew she would welcome him. As the thought crystallized, a violent trembling that ripped from head to toe wracked his body. He forced his mouth from hers. She gave a little soft cry of denial. Her fingers clutched in the tufts of his hair as she tried to recapture his head and pull him back. But he would take her not like this, in rampant lust, as if she were no more than a common harlot. He caught her small hands and encased them within his own. They trembled within his grasp, as would a spider’s web in a strong breeze.

Faith and the saints! Never in his life had he lost control with a woman as he had done now with Ysane. What spell did she weave upon him to unman him so?

Her breath came in shallow pants. ’Twas truth, his own did the same. Her eyes opened, but their vivid green was dazzled, and her expression slack, for she remained lost in the throes of her own yearning. He stared at her sweet lips, open and swollen now from his bruising caress. How it happened, he knew not, but he had found with this woman a harmony unexpected, an affinity to be cherished and nourished with all the care and wisdom garnered from the violent insanity that had for so long been his life. ’Twas something akin, mayhap, to that sweet sharing of life his warrior father had found with his gentle mother, though she too, had been a stolen bride.

“Ysane,” he whispered, then glared at nothing when he heard how low and husky was his own voice. But she had not even heard him. He shook his head, seeking clarity. “Little rose!”

This time, his voice conveyed determination. He stepped away, then gently shook her. Cupping her chin with his fingers, he called her name a second time.

She stared at him in dawning realization. Abruptly, the sensual haze holding her in thrall vanished and she groaned again, but this time, seemingly in shame. Her face flamed scarlet, and she tore her gaze from his, cringing away and seeking to break free of his hold. He would allow it not.

“Nay!” Echoes of the unforeseen depths of the passion they shared still throbbed in his tone, but he cared not. “Nay, my rose, look at me. Look…at…me!”

Once he captured her gaze, he held it secure. “Ysane, I will suffer you not to hide from what has passed between us. You are…disquieted, I know. It caught me off guard, as well. Saint’s toes!” He swept his hand back and forth through his pate of hair. “It nigh swept me away. Never has such a torrent overtaken me, my lady. Neither of us expected such fire to erupt, but see you not what a priceless gift we are given? There is no shame to be found within its embrace. Know you not that great passion can become a strong foundation for the building of a good and lasting marriage? Few are offered such a gift, and I will allow it not to be scorned.”