A Flame Run Wild (32 page)

"Aye, but you would bargain with him if needful. You would coax Satan to have your way." He caught up her
haik
and thrust it at her.

"That is unfair!"

"Fair or not, a man lies dead in a salt bath tonight because of your lack of discretion, not to mention your perpetual meddling. I had to kill him like a cur fighting another over a wandering bitch! I would to God—" His face twisted as he bit off the next furious words.

"Do you wish you had never met me?" Liliane finished softly, her throat aching from the hard lump in it.

"Do not..." His face came close to hers. "Do not presume to decide what I think. Do not play upon my weakness for you. I will not have you probing inside my skull as you have so cruelly in my heart." He thrust her toward her mare. "Return to the tent and this time stay there."

"Are you not coming?" she asked quietly as she mounted.

"I will stay with Flanchard and converse with his ghost. I have an idea we shall have much to say to each other. Tis irony that a man wise enough not to love women should lose his life over one."

Liliane looked down at him with stark pain in her eyes. "Alexandre, I meant no harm to anyone in riding alone tonight, but I could not bear your staying away any longer. In time of unhappiness, I have always turned to the sea."

For a moment he was silent, men slowly, wearily, he touched her hand on the reins. "For all our differences, we are much alike, milady. This is a time when I would be alone with the sea." His hand tightened on hers. "I would speak no more harsh words to you when I am yet distraught. Tomorrow, perhaps, I will be less embittered. Please"—his hand dropped—"go now."

Tomorrow, Liliane thought bleakly as she rode away from him, Flanchard will be no less dead, and kindness cannot replace love.

* * *

Alexandre was kind the next day, though it clearly cost him effort. He was moody and very quiet, and he made no effort to touch her again. The sharp-eyed Saida had guessed something was amiss between her rescuers' and that Liliane no longer had her former authority; with alacrity, Saida set out to further undermine that authority. Any time Liliane might have persuaded Alexandre to discuss their differences, Saida hovered about him, drawing his attention to herself. Liliane was unable to assail the wall that had risen between her and Alexandre, and equally unable to deal summarily with Saida. Uncertain of herself now, she found that she was testing Alexandre's love and loyalty by allowing Saida free rein; and that rein grew long.

Alexandre became accustomed to Liliane's bleak silence and Saida's cheerful conversation, her small flirtations grown bold. Preoccupied with guilt for the raid's failure and his efforts to prove Lewis's guilt, Alexandre paid little attention to Saida. As for Liliane, he was still so furious with her over the raid and Flanchard, he dared not give voice to his resentment lest he say too much and forever forge a barrier between them. Saida took his abstracted civility for encouragement.

Since Saida owned only the clothes on her back upon fleeing Saladin's camp, Alexandre had directed one of the servants to buy her a small wardrobe in the camp bazaar. The servant, Alphonse, who was hardly more than a boy, became carried away with dressing pretty Saida and bought some ornate and revealing costumes that had been created for the camp prostitutes. Three nights after the raid, Saida put on a green outfit that suited her purposes perfectly.

Alexandre arrived late for dinner. A summons from Richard had subjected him to yet another hour of tirades and reprimands, and his frustration of the last several days was on the verge of explosion. As he entered the tent, he gave Liliane's male dress a quick, impatient look. "Why not send the servants away tonight and dress as a woman for once? Oaths or not, the news of your charade will probably leak out soon enough."

"The longer he does not, the better," she replied quietly. "My relatives will have no great fondness for me, should they discover I have betrayed them."

Alexandre pulled off his mail shirt and tossed it into the corner. "I daresay they will be miffed. Reliability is not one of your merits."

"I was always there when you needed me."

"Oh, yes"—he grimaced—"even when I did not need you, even when you were a damned liability."

Liliane took a deep breath. "Do you want to quarrel, Alexandre? If you do, we may as well have it out now."

"Why, my love, we shall do as you like ... as always." He threw himself down beside the small spread of linen that served as their table. "When have my wishes ever hindered your plans? We shall dine or pelt each other with fruit: all, all as you like."

She sat down opposite him and leaned forward earnestly. ' 'Alexandre, I know you must be angry and rightfully so, but surely you realize I never meant to hurt you."

"Perhaps not," he replied flatly, "but that does not change the fact that I can now scarce handle my men. I am the monkey's tail these days. They are still gibbering with laughter behind my back, and Flanchard had the largest guffaw of all. His mirth at my expense still haunts me."

"Flanchard laughed at everyone, even himself. Your men are still loyal to you."

"They also pity me. Flanchard was right. A man who cannot command his own wife, cannot presume to command men." He stared unseeingly at the linen. "I have given my command to Lisle."

She was stunned. "Alexandre, you had no need to surrender command . . ."

"No?" His eyes looked bleak. "When I returned, Richard made it quite clear to Philip that he no longer had faith in me. That is known as an invitation to resignation."

"Why did you not tell me?"

"Because, my dear, I assumed you would know. You have known every other move I have made. And if I do not make it quickly enough, you make it for me."

She felt hideously guilty; he was right. "Alexandre, I am sorry—" The rest of her apology was cut off by Saida's sudden appearance. The girl wore a green costume so outrageously provocative that for a moment both Alexandre and Liliane were taken aback. Liliane was the first to find her tongue. "Saida, leave us! How dare you contrive so shameless a display?"

The girl's painted smile crumpled. "Oh, I feared you would not approve!" She threw herself at Alexandre's feet. "My other clothes are soiled and these are the last I have to wear! I had not the heart, to send the servant boy back, for he had no more money and he wanted so to please me!" Curling to her knees, she grasped her bodice. "I shall tear this defilement from my body, my lord, if it displeases you! You have been so kind to me, and I have thanked you ill . . . ah, woe, I will tear my very flesh!" She wrenched at the bodice and, with a piteous wail, raked her nails across her generously revealed breasts.

Hastily, Alexandre caught her hand. "Saida, do no more damage! Your mistake is easily remedied. Do but put on more suitable garments: the yellow costume is fetching."

Saida clasped his hand to a rounded breast. "Ah, my lord, feel my beating heart and know I would do naught to willingly displease you!" Her sloe-shaped eyes became pools of inviting darkness. "Do what you will with me. I am yours."

Any man would have been understandably intrigued. When Alexandre's hand did not immediately move away, Liliane said sharply, "Enough repentance, Saida. Change."

Saida's eyes slanted toward Alexandre. "Do you truly find my attire offensive, my lord? Am I so frightfully ugly?"

Alexandre carefully removed his hand. "Few men would reprove such . . . feminine garments. Certainly, you are a pretty girl."

A fat tear seeped down Saida's cheek. "I am not pretty enough for so handsome a lord. I am most unworthy."

"Shall we find you a lord more appreciative?" Liliane suggested.

Saida's eyes went wide with apprehension, and Alexandre turned sharply to Liliane. "Do not threaten the girl. She is harmless enough."

"Particularly with her bodice fair dropped to her waist," Liliane retorted in French. "She is so distraught that she may trip on her nipples trying to dive into your braies."

He looked at her for a long moment. "You have plagued me by playing a man; will you burden me with a shrew, as well?"

Flinching with hurt, Liliane rose swiftly. "I shall burden you not at all. Do you wish me to leave you all together?"

"Nay," he said quietly. "Stay. The girl holds no interest for me, but perhaps you will be reminded of a woman's ways."

"Was I not woman enough when you took me to that place of whores?" she responded evenly.

"Satisfying a man's lust has little to do with being a woman. Hardened whores are scarcely women; they might as well be mules inured to burdens and indifference, so long as they claim their carrot: money." He looked at her levelly. "You, on the other hand, expect another carrot: revenge for Diego. I am your bait; so long as your uncle and cousin go for me, you have a chance to prove they killed Diego and go for their throats. I am in too many ways incidental."

Liliane had gone pale. "I once meant to use you as much as guard you, but no longer, and you know it. Do you want to hate me?"

"Perhaps I do," he murmured. "I do not know anymore . . . and I wonder if you know what you want." He waved to a cushion next to Saida, who was desperately trying to decipher what they were saying. "Please, sit. We both are tired. Have some brandy wine." He took up the pitcher and poured as Liliane sagged numbly down on the cushion. In the face of his bitterness and disillusionment as well as her own pain, she did not know how to deal with his changes in mood. Logic told her she ought to fight them, but the rapidly growing fear that she had irretrievably lost him in Saladin's camp made her defensive. Kiki, sensing her unhappiness, crept to her side.

Spotting the monkey, Saida made a face and edged closer to Alexandre. "My lord, I am afraid of that creature. When you are not about to reprimand it, it tries to bite me. The nasty beast has even made its foul turds in my bed." She clung to his arm. "Please, my lord, I beg you, send it away."

Alexandre glanced questioningly at Liliane. "Do not look at me," she muttered in French. "Kiki recognizes a sow and her wallow readily enough."

"She also knows you dislike the girl," he replied evenly. "Send the monkey away. For one night at least, we shall do without fleas in our food."

"The fleas are more likely Saida's—" Liliane's defiant defense of her pet was cut off by the entrance of Alphonse with a platter of savory lamb, okra and fruit. As he settled the platter on the linen, he smiled and tried to catch Saida's eye. She ignored him. Liliane eased Kiki behind her and when serving herself, slipped the monkey a ripe pomegranate to keep it occupied and out of sight. She was sure Alexandre knew of Kiki's. presence, but probably being no more anxious for another quarrel than she, he seemed willing to accept a compromise.

After the deflated Alphonse left, she and Alexandre began to eat, while Saida, in Saracen fashion, waited for them to be done before she took her share. In the silence, small, sticky smacks sounded behind Liliane. Saida's eyes narrowed. To cover Kiki's noise, Liliane began to chew with unnecessary relish.

A glimmer of a smile quirked Alexandre's lips. With slow deliberation, he selected a pear and bit it with dramatic salaciousness. Their meal soon sounded as if its every morsel were drowned in soup. Kiki pinched Liliane for another piece of fruit.

"Are you uncomfortable, my lord?" Saida queried sweetly at Liliane's start. "Shall I fetch you a less verminous pillow?"

"As the rest of our pillows are piled upon your bedding, I think not" was the equally sugary reply. "So many lively specks have collected there, you might consider training the rascals to perform." Liliane smiled wolfishly as she palmed Kiki a plum. "Your chaste nights may also prove less dull when devoted to innocent industry. Why chafe for lovers when a multitude of entertaining companions gambol through your sheets?"

Saida's eyes lowered demurely. "Perhaps I shall take your advice, my lord. It must be wise, as you seem to speak from bitter experience. How sad to have no companion for your bed"—her eyes cut coquettishly to Alexandre—"no soft flesh to comfort you, no red lips and round breasts to make your manhood fierce and proud." She cut a harder glance at Liliane. "If I do not wash, it is to preserve the alluring perfume of my woman's parts. Any man not dead knows that scent and its promise of rich fulfillment." She wrinkled her nose in delicate distaste. "Soap smells of pig grease and lye. What enticement lies in that?"

"I have never noted that rancid musk holds any particular enticement," drawled Liliane. "Rather, it ranks offensively with the effluvium of goats and mildewed cheese. Add a strong whiff of acrid mule sweat and one has an urge more to puke than to pursue."

Alexandre, who had been bemusedly gnawing a tough chunk of mutton while the women bickered, now hastily intervened as Saida acquired a warlike glint in her eye. "Enough, friend Jefar. We shall all have our stomachs turned at this rate. Besides, Saida is unused to having a supply of water sufficient for bathing in the desert." He gave Saida a polite but pointed smile. "As we are not currently lacking in water, an occasional bath will not much diminish your attractions. I must admit that, like Jefar, I prefer less heady scents from the women about me when I am on military campaign." With disarming Gallic charm, he kissed Saida's hand. "Surely, you would not wish me to be so distracted that I may lose my head?"

You have already lost it! thought Liliane, seeing red as he grinned at the giggling Saida. Jealousy and frustration wracked her. "Alexandre," she said sharply in French, "you forget yourself!"

His head turned slowly, his blue eyes icy. "Perhaps I am remembering. There was a time when there were no kings and wives in my life. Why begrudge me a little nostalgia?"

Liliane went white and Saida gave her a triumphant smile. In taut, miserable silence, Liliane watched Saida grow more open in her advances to Alexandre, his gallantries and flattery to her more lavish. He is teaching his headstrong wife a lesson, Liliane told herself bleakly. A hard lesson she would never forget; one her pride and heart found unendurable.

Something was dying in her as she watched them. In these last two years, her love for Alexandre had become the center of her life. Now her splendid, comforting dream was twisting into a nightmare. For many long months, she had lived beyond her strength as a soldier. For three nights now, she had not slept. The last, fragile barrier that had kept her sane in the midst of lonely, hideous destruction crumbled away. Her mind filled with ghosts of the children she and Diego had never had, Diego's death, Alexandre's desertion . . . losses. She had failed everyone!

Saida's coy laughter knelled the end of her marriage; there would be other Saidas. Hereafter, Alexandre's happiness could only be bought at the price of her obedience, and obedience belied her nature. For love of him, she might lie and feign docility . . . but she'd inevitably end by hating him as much as herself. She had no desire to return to France; nothing at Castle de Brueil would be the same again, except that it would be more of a prison than before.

Liliane watched Alexandre, wondering how she could ever bear to live apart from him. His every gesture, every word, felt its hook within her heart. Upon their first meeting, she had been drawn to his lively, wild air, to his mischief and vulnerability, to his strength and poetry. Aye, thief he had been, despite his lands and title; he had stolen her heart easily and she would never have it back again, nor would his heart ever be wholly hers again. Since Acre, he had subtly changed. His face, drawn beneath its tan, had lost its boyish look. His wit was undiminished but had grown acerbic beneath its charm. He seemed withdrawn, unaware of her, even of Saida. Since her coming to Palestine, she knew he had tried to stifle his building resentment with smooth detachment until he could ignore her interference no longer. Neither of them would ever forget the moment when he had been ridiculed by friend and enemy alike; that ridicule had hurt him far more than Richard's chastisement.