Amongst Silk and Spice (10 page)

His mind tore itself apart as his seed released into her—deep, shuttering convulsions tore through him, drained everything from him, feeling deep pride along with the endless waves of pleasure slamming through him. Still unable to breathe, he sunk down onto her soft body, still buried deep inside her, unwilling to part from her. Against his will, sleep tore at his consciousness, forcing its grip to relent.

Hugo woke alone with images of the things he'd done flooding his head. His head ached and his mouth was dry, and there was still a slightly floating feeling when he moved, sitting up on the pillows around the table where they'd dined last night. But none of these things compared to the things he'd done and the implications of spending a night in the delicious and willing body—albeit coerced by draft—of his charge. Eloise was nowhere to be found.

Resting his elbows on his knees, he stroked through his hair, still not believing what he'd done. He remembered it so clearly, but for some reason, he had thought it a good idea at the time, even knowing it was the draft of poppies and belladonna, and whatever else was in there, that had made him lose his conscience entirely.

Quickly, he searched for her but she wasn't there. Instead, a servant stood by the door waiting for instruction.

"Where is she?" he asked.

"The girl has gone to bathe," the man said in Latin.

"Please carry a message saying we are leaving," Hugo said, standing to note that his robes were barely tied in place. His body didn't feel as weary as his mind did, but that might be the weight of the memories pressing down. There was also a lightness and energy resulting from spending his seed in such a delightful manner. Hugo cringed at the thought. While it was a night he didn't want to remember, neither did he want to forget it. It was the work of his own sin, but it had its reward. The servant nodded and started to leave. "And I will need my clothes."

Hugo walked over to the wall and looked over at the city below. It looked like it was mid-morning and the sun was already beating down harshly on the open balcony that had been their dining hall last night. They would leave the city today and travel north. Truthfully, he couldn't escape quick enough, having succumbed so completely to his most carnal instincts, and the fact that it had been the most profound exercise of those instincts he could ever recall. He tightened painfully just remembering, then cursed himself for his weakness.

He knew things about her he should not know and he'd done things he had no right to. If he ever needed to confess and do penance, it was now, but he had to continue with this journey. He would pay for his sins when he had the leisure of doing so.

The servant returned with his clothes and Hugo dressed, hiding away his nakedness and base instincts behind a barrier of clothes—knight’s clothes with mail. He would love to leave the mail off, but these were not inherently friendly lands to persons like him and he had to be prepared for an ambush.

He followed the servant down to an outer courtyard where his horse stood, saddled and ready, chewing on hay. Even their water pouches had been filled. "The governor cannot see you off, but he wishes you a speedy and safe journey," the servant said, bowing deeply.

"And I thank him for his hospitality, and I hope to return it some day."

The servant nodded and left. Hugo was itching to be on his way and away from this place—and the memories he hoped to leave behind.

Eloise appeared at the door, wearing her red, flowing dress, and Hugo was both relieved and disturbed to see her, remembering fitting snugly within her lovely thighs as if they had been made just for him. The previous night, he hadn't even questioned if he belonged there, had just followed his instincts. Hugo felt a sharp flare of embarrassment and disappointment in himself. "Come, we must go," he said and turned to the open doors.

Eloise joined him, following slightly behind. "Well, if I wasn't a maid before, I'm certainly not one now," she said with her arms crossed.

The muscles in Hugo's cheeks tightened as he bit down, turning his eyes ahead of them. He wasn't the only one who participated in the previous evening’s activities, but he was a knight and he should have resisted the temptation. "I apologize. It will never happen again."

Eloise snorted, her hand traveling to her neck as if to defend herself from roaming hands. "It was blue lotus, apparently—the drink. They did not tell me. It increases ardor." He could certainly attest to its effectiveness.

"They thought you were my concubine."

"Perhaps saying so was a bad idea."

"I could hardly have said you were my wife, could I? English nobles don't drag their wives across half the world to retrieve a treasure, nor could I tell them you were the thing the king of England sent a knight across the world to retrieve. Placing a value on you would not be a good idea in a place like this." She might end up being a concubine for real if he had presented her wrong. He tried to defend himself, knowing his actions were all logical. He just hadn't foreseen the consequences.

They walked in silence until they left the city and were on the road northward through barren lands, away from the lusher agricultural fields around the rivers. Mounting the horse, he leant his arm down to help her up, drawing her slight body up on the rump of the horse. She sat as far back as she could without falling off, which might not have been a bad idea.

"At least there will be no unfortunate consequences," he said, feeling utter relief on that point.

"How do you know there won't be any consequences? You cannot possibly say that."

"You were living with a man and there had been no consequences. I think it is quite safe to say you are barren."

"I'm not barren," she said forcefully. "My fertility had been repressed through Cathayan herbs, but they've likely worn off by now. So yes, there could be consequences and you'd have some real explaining to do to your king, not to mention my father."

"So he is your father now?"

"No, he's not. He is a man who flip-flops on the issue, and may assert that he is my father, but I do not recognize him as such."

"Yet you keep referring to him as your father."

"What shall I call him? The cur who murdered my mother? Just be quiet. I do not wish to speak to you."

Hugo closed his eyes. He wasn't the only one who was in a foul mood, but he was taking it out on her, when he was definitely at fault here. She might have danced like a siren drawing in its victims, but he had submitted to it, and he should have been stronger. He would be stronger. It would never happen again. He would not let himself be compromised once more, make the same mistake.

The news that she wasn't barren was a surprise, and frankly, an unwelcome development. There was now the real possibility that he had put a child in her belly. Hugo cursed himself again.

They rode for hours along an attributary river they needed to cross, finally deciding to rest for the night. It was cooling down quickly and Hugo started a fire with the dry kindling deposited by some prior flood.

"If you are with child, we will have to marry," he said, breaking long hours of silence.

"No," she said.

"If you are carrying my child, we will have to marry," he repeated, wondering if she didn't understand the gravity of the development. There was not much option. Everyone would correctly assume what had happened if they returned from such a long journey with her swelling with child. There would be no way around that.

"I'm not staying in England, no matter what is to come. Child or no, I'm not marrying you, and the last time I checked, not even the king can force consent to marriage. As soon as possible, I am leaving England and I am never returning."

"It is not so easy to raise a child alone."

"What know you of raising a child? I'll manage."

Painfully, he recognized she had a point. What did he know of being a father or a parent? He hadn't even managed to meet his son. He'd provided all he should have for his son—a mother, an estate, but he still hadn't managed to protect the wee boy.

Sighing, Hugo lay down, pulling the blanket over him, trying to clear the thoughts rampaging through his mind. Eloise was intent on leaving as soon as she was released, even if she carried his child. He listened to the fire crackling and tried to welcome sleep into his weary mind and body, hearing Eloise turn over under her blankets on the other side of the fire.

Again, unwelcome images flashed through his mind of her underneath him and the look of ardent welcome and acceptance in her eyes. Turning over to his side, away from the fire, the images would not relent. He could still feel the smoothness of her skin under his hands, the softness of her hair and the scent of her that drove him to utter distraction. He clenched his fists to chase the phantom feelings away.

This next month or so was going to be hell each night, knowing the heaven he was forgoing. But it wasn't his right. The right to take her belonged to her husband, not that she would accept one. But it was definitely not his.

They sold the horse for passage when they finally reached the trading village on the eastern side of the Black Sea. They didn't have to wait long, finding passage the next morning. Hugo didn't sleep while they waited, but Eloise lay down on their blankets and closed her eyes.

When she woke, Hugo was still standing guard over her. Although she didn't like to admit it, she felt safe when he watched over her. This was not the safest place they'd been, a true mix without any predominant religion or structure, or even governing order. This was a lawless place, caught in the middle of vast but differing lands, a place where encroachment meant war, so this was where the lawless went.

The port was bustling from dawn when the fishermen went out and the screaming gulls followed. Hugo left her for a moment to buy bread from a merchant not far away and Eloise watched him as he bargained with the seller who was intimidated by his size and unquestionable military background.

Heat flared up her cheeks when she thought back on the things they'd done while under the haze of the blue lotus. They had fit so perfectly together and Eloise hadn't quite known such ardor was possible, but then it could have been a complete by-product of the draft. Unfortunately now she knew how solid he felt under her fingers, how her hands could skim over his hard muscles, not to mention his hardness that fit snugly and deliciously inside her. All things she didn't want to know about her childhood enemy. Not to mention him seeing her completely and utterly wanton. He must think she was always like that. True, she liked a man's touch and the wonderful things that could be done when lying together, but she'd never quite liked it as much as she had while blue lotus fired her mind and body. It had felt like they were one being joyously coming together from being parted. It had felt divine.

Turning her head away, Eloise dismissed the thoughts. They were all a consequence of that damned draft no one had told her about. She heard him return. "It's time to leave," he said, his voice deep and calm.

Eloise rose and took the bread he handed her, while he picked up the blankets and gently urged her toward the ship loading goods. It was certainly not a ship built for passengers, but it would carry them to Constantinople. Hugo held her hand as she stepped down onto the ship's deck, wondering if he was not more gentle with her than before. If she had known a roll in the hay was all it took to turn him from the horrid man she knew to a gentle and kind one, she would have considered it months ago, she joked with herself. Maybe he was being considerate because he thought she was with child. The idea sent a frisson through her body.

She wouldn't mind if there was a child—a child she could love and teach. A child who would be half Hugo, her mind reminded her. Perhaps that wasn't so bad if viewed abstractly. Hugo was strong, and physically, he was pleasing. He was also a product of his class and upbringing, but her child would never have those limitations.

She wished it was true, she decided. A child in her belly right now would be something that would please her—well, maybe not please, but she would deal with it. Obviously it would be better with a man she loved, but if circumstances decreed it, she would love and raise this child.

The ship smoothly pulled away from port and the sun rose in the sky. It would be a nice day with no more travel on horseback. Hugo would rest now, she knew, and she supposed she would watch over him. She still hadn't told him that she had stopped fighting the idea of him bringing her back, seeing no reason to ease his wariness.

Searching him out, she found him not far away, sitting down in the back of the ship, with his knees up and head down, his hand around his sword scabbard, ready to fight if necessary. "Lie down," she said as she approached. "I will stay awake."

Grudgingly, he complied, lying down on his side, taking the sword to his chest and closing his eyes, sleeping properly. His long, blond hair moved slightly in the breeze, but his eyes remained closed, lost to this world. What dreams filtered through his mind, she wondered. Even after so much time together, she didn't know him well enough to tell. All she knew of him was that he fought and fought, had had a wife he didn't love and a son he never met. Perhaps he dreamt of Ritchie and the carefree days of his youth. Suddenly, she was glad he'd had those days, even if those boys had been the bane of her existence at the time—because the life he had now didn't seem to have much joy of any kind, and there was a good chance he would die in battle before long. Perhaps those days would be all he'd ever have. It was a sad thought.

Hugo slept for hours, then rose and ate what was left of the bread. He spent time staring out into the sea and Eloise again wondered what he was thinking about. "What will you do when we return?" she asked.

Hugo shrugged, drawing his attention back to her. "Probably go back to France. Whatever the king asks of me."

"Bringing me back will put you in his favor."

"It might."

"What does that mean?" she asked, leaning back against the side of the ship, tucking her legs underneath her. He shrugged again. "Perhaps not so well if I refuse to comply."

Hugo smiled. "Your stubborn nature is his problem. My mission is to bring you back. He never told me to make you compliant."

"As if you could."

Hugo watched her but didn't say anything. He actually believed he could, she realized. Of all the arrogant things, she started, fuming at the very idea. A perverse thought stole through her mind saying that if every night he shattered her mind and body like he had back in Baghdad, there probably wouldn't be much fight left in her. And then she got offended at her own thought, and at him for assuming exactly that. Luckily, they were not going to be putting that theory to the test. "You couldn't," she said firmly, to convince herself more than anyone. Granted, it had been deeply unsettling, but she wouldn't lose herself completely in a man's arms.

Darkness fell and they sailed into yet another port. The men would sleep here that night, but Hugo was wary, standing guard again. Eloise watched as he walked in the moonlight, his steps loud in the still surroundings.

They hadn't eaten for hours now and Eloise grew hungry. In the morning, when the vendors of this small village came out to sell their goods, they would eat. For now, there was nothing more to be done than to sleep.

"I suppose we will sailing from now on," she said. "Shall we sail around Spain?"

"It will be faster to cross France. The southern coast is still French—" he started, but a thud broke his speech and with a groan, he fell to the floor.

"Hugo?" she asked, getting up from where she'd been sitting. She moved over to him, but there was movement on the deck. Men were silently creeping toward them. Eloise saw the rock that had knocked Hugo out. She didn't know what they wanted, but it couldn't be good. "Hugo?" she said again, pressing down on his arm, but he was out cold. He might even be dead. A knock to the head, enough to incapacitate, was enough to kill if one was unlucky.

The men were coming closer. "Stay back," she demanded, but they were still advancing. Three of them. This would go very badly. They could be pirates intent on slitting throats and taking what they wanted. Or they could take her, sell her into slavery. She was probably the most valuable thing in Hugo's possession in these men's eyes.

Drawing Hugo's sword out of its scabbard, she stepped forward, brandishing it. "Stay back," she said in Persian, and they paused for a moment as they reassessed, but it wasn't putting them off, she could see it in one of the men's eyes. If they had their way, she would likely be sport for them tonight, probably all of them. She swung the sword slightly, but it was too heavy for her to use, and these men realized it. "I will cut you," she warned, the tremble of fear evident in her voice. She swung again, with more force this time, and the men stepped back.

Stepping back herself, Eloise walked into Hugo's unconscious form. "Hugo, wake up," she pleaded. "Please." She could see one of the men inching around to the side. He was trying to get her when she swung at one of them. "Hugo!"

She registered a touch on her chin, then Hugo reached down the length of her arm for the sword and Eloise almost cried with relief. He was awake.

He pushed her behind him, blinking as though he was still trying to clear dizziness from his head. Stepping forward, he swung the sword like it was light and the men moved as fast as lightning to get out of its reach. One of the men produced another sword and engaged Hugo, but couldn't compete with the knight’s powerful and well ingrained strokes.

Arms grabbed her around her waist and she felt herself being lifted. Kicking wildly, she started to scream, but a foul hand pressed down on her mouth. She bit down, pushing with her feet on the side of the ship, knocking them both over, getting a punch in the head for her troubles. The world swam in front of her eyes and she felt herself being lifted again. This man would carry her off, while the other two engaged Hugo. It was a distraction tactic, but she also saw Hugo brutally running one of the men through with his sword, pulling it out bloodied, swinging immediately for the other, who fled. But a third man was carrying her away. She had to fight, but she couldn't reach to get leverage, feeling as though she was about to faint from the shock and the terrible pain at her temple, until she was falling, hitting the deck hard.

She heard the sword hit home, piercing flesh and the cut-off groan of someone dying. In her panic, she tried to crawl away.

"I have you," Hugo said, picking her up. Turning in his grip, her arms snaked around his neck and held on as tightly as she could.

"Are they dead?"

"Two. The third fled. He won't be returning."

Eloise couldn't get control of her breathing, refusing to let go. Panic still washed through her mind, her head pounding.

Hugo walked and sat down along the side of the ship with Eloise on his lap. She made no attempt to move, too scared to be away from him at the moment. Irrationally perhaps, but her head ached so badly.

"Bastards got you, too," he said, reaching his fingers up to where her head hurt the most. She winced when he touched the bruised skin next to her temple.

"Is it bleeding?"

"There is a cut." His thumb stroked down the side as if trying to smooth the angry skin. "It is not bad, but you will ache for a few days.

"You were out and I couldn't raise you. I thought we were done for."

"We managed."

"Your sword is heavy."

He chuckled. "Yes, it is."

Eloise didn't move, instead stayed in his lap and closing her eyes, urging her heart and mind to slow and realize that the danger had passed.

"I'm sorry," Hugo said after a while, his hand resting on her shoulder. "I should have protected you better. I should have known."

"You could not have seen that rock being thrown."

"I knew these were dangerous places; I should have done more to protect you."

"We are fine."

"Both of us are worse for wear."

Eloise smiled, but the ache in her head flared, making her groan.