At His Command-Historical Romance Version (18 page)

“Our situation was delicate before. With Henry’s illness, it’s become so fragile it’s as if we’d tripped while carrying a basket of eggs. Our lives could crack apart.” A curl had dangled free of her hood. He twined it around his finger and was rewarded with a slight smile. Even that simple connection to her was better than none. “What does it matter what two people do when all of England is in an uproar?”

He continued, as if now that he’d started to speak words would spill until their source was spent. “I never thought I’d feel this way, never. We must take hold of whatever happiness we can, not knowing what the future will bring or if either of us even have one. I want to be with you, to enjoy you while I am able, before events beyond our control separate us.”

The need to hold her, to kiss her overwhelmed him. He’d been a fool to wait so long. He’d thought to protect her and himself, but instead had wasted precious, precious time.

“Yes. Oh, yes, that’s what I want, also.”

The delight on Amice’s face added a stone to the weight in Nicholas’s heart. He’d thought to spare her pain by staying apart, but had caused her more instead.

“There’s something else. I must tell you the rest, or whatever happens between us will be tainted. You may change your mind when you hear.”

“What could make me change my mind about being with you? I’ve wanted that since before we left Castle Rising.”

He wanted to smooth away the lines on her brow but knew his reply would only deepen them. “William died because of me.”

Amice gasped. “You bring up William’s death now, in the midst of telling me that I matter to you? That you want me. Are you saying you killed him?”

“No. Not exactly. But he died trying to rescue me.”

“What happened? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Amice gripped his arms so hard her nails dug into his skin. The wind blew off her hood and he replaced it. “Don’t leave anything out.”

His focus blurred, his inner vision returning as it so often did to that horrible day. “After my leg was hit, I couldn’t move quickly on my own. William wanted to help me leave the field. I tried to dissuade him, told him to press on alone, but he insisted. I would’ve died had he not saved me. The next cannon blast hit him in the head. Instead of me. If he hadn’t been there, if he hadn’t stayed, I’d probably be dead and he might still be alive.

“I couldn’t help but believe my feelings for you, my wish to be with you, somehow contributed to his death, that I didn’t try hard enough to send him away.”

Each word was as difficult to say as if it were a cart stuck in the mud and he the horse pulling it out. When he finished, she didn’t recoil. She didn’t burst into tears.

She hugged him, then took his hands. “How you must have suffered, to add this to your burdens.”

“Don’t you see? I couldn’t bring myself to tell you. I thought you’d blame me as I blame myself for being responsible for his death. I tried to forget about you. Now, as everything crumbles around us, I see my only salvation is in the truth.”

“How could you keep this secret for so long?” Amice asked. “I thought we meant more to each other. I thought I knew you. Obviously, I was mistaken. When we talked in the woods you let me think…. You preferred my not knowing to coping with my response.”

“It’s because I do care for you that I remained silent. How could I tell you that I, who wanted you for myself, who burned with jealousy seeing you merely talk to William, caused him to die?”

He reached inside his tunic and pulled out Amice’s necklace.

Amice’s hands shook as she accepted it. Her eyes filled with tears.

Would she hate him? Or would she forgive? His future depended on her response. But he felt free. He’d done the right thing. At last.

“How did you get this?” She traced each amethyst.

“As I was crawling away from William, I saw it on his neck. I’ve worn it ever since, afraid to give it back because I’d have to tell you how I obtained it.” And wearing the necklace had made him feel closer to her even as he burned with guilt.

Anger sparked in her eyes. “You didn’t trust me to believe you if you said his death wasn’t at your hand? How could you think such horrid thoughts, be so smitten with honor that you stayed away from me? You don’t know if you’d have been hit by that next cannon blast, not he.

“You worried all this time that I cared more for a man I barely knew, whom I didn’t ask to wed, than I cared for you. You, who befriended and helped me? For this, which was none of your doing, you avoided me for weeks. When we could have comforted each other, been there for each other. When I’m not bound to any man. Who knows how much time we have before we’re separated forever, before Queen Margaret finds me another betrothed?”

The flame of her righteous anger was so bright he thought she’d heat the cool air. Nicholas grasped her shoulders to draw her near, but she remained stiff. He willed his gaze to pierce her fury and any shred of practicality that remained. He wanted to be with her, she wanted to be with him. How could something so simple be so complicated?

At last Amice melted against him. His arms enfolded her, drawing her into his warmth, dispelling the early morning chill.

“Holding you feels so good. So right,” he said. “Ah, Amice, I have missed you.”

She looked up at him. Her lips parted. Under the eaves of the stables, he bent his head and kissed her. Their breath frosted in a white puff as their lips met, filling him with a yearning he hadn’t known possible. Her mouth, her tongue against his, so warm, so right.

At length, they parted.

“Well. That was…worth waiting for.” Her cheeks were pink and her lips an enticing red. From the cold? Embarrassment? Or desire? “I’m sorry you suffered guilt for so long. As to the other, I agree. There’s such distress here and strife elsewhere. I want to spend time with you, be with you. It’s as simple as that. No matter how long we have. Surely doing so can’t be wrong. Let’s find a way to meet each day.”

His hands slipped inside her cloak to encircle her waist, drawing her against him. She felt so soft, tasted so sweet, he wished he could make her his right now.

“We can’t spend too much time together in public. People will talk, and I don’t want word to reach the queen,” she said. “If you come to my room…we won’t be alone. But Ginelle sleeps soundly.”

“I’ll come to you tonight. No matter what demands may be made of me. Until then.” After a swift kiss, and a lingering touch on her face, he released her and walked toward the castle.

Despite the uncertainties to come, his heart felt lighter. And warmer.

Nicholas and Amice had been too caught up in each other to notice him lurking on the opposite side of the stables. Lovesick fools. The disgusting kiss—he wouldn’t think on that.

Harry pulled his black hood further over his face just in case Amice turned, then waited until she had made her way back to the castle before following her inside.

Getting here had been more difficult and taken much longer than he’d planned. But at last he’d found her.

“Smile while you can, my dear,” he muttered, closing the castle door.

Chapter 12

Partaking of evening meals at Westminster had become like living in a monastery where monks were sworn to silence. Had pious King Henry been aware, he’d have appreciated the hall’s hushed atmosphere. But Amice knew fear of the unknown prompted the quiet, not reverent respect.

When someone dropped a knife, everyone jumped as though a cannonball had smashed through the wall. When someone entered, everyone looked up in uncertain anticipation as though a horrendous announcement was forthcoming.

Amice’s nerves were on edge as she pondered her evening plans. What had she done, throwing herself at Nicholas and kissing him? She was no better than Belinda, whom Amice knew had worked her way through many men serving Henry.

Had he been able to see the love she’d felt for him almost since the day they met?

This morning, she’d been exactly where she wanted to be. In Nicholas’s embrace.

His hot mouth had moved on hers, tasting, teasing, then melding for a deeper kiss as he clutched her close. This was what she had been waiting for. From the tips of her fingers to her toes, she loved him.

But their differences were still too great because of her work for York and his for Henry. They might not have a future, but they could have right now.

Some of the strain had left his face after their kiss, perhaps because she didn’t blame him for William’s death. Perhaps because he knew she still cared. He’d told his truth at last, and now she had to reveal hers. But how? How could she blame him for not coming forward when she, too, had thought to protect him, protect their brief time together, by remaining silent? Even if England plunged into civil war, Nicholas had finally told her he cared. Though she’d stood in the cold, she’d felt warm and safe for the first time in a long while.

Yet while part of her heart rejoiced, part feared his reaction when she told the truth. And another part wept for the downfall of her country as she knew it.

What they were going to do was a sin. The Church proscribed lovemaking outside the bonds of marriage. Why was it more acceptable to make love to someone just because you agreed to marry him but felt nothing, yet wrong when you truly cared for a man, though no words had been spoken by a priest?

The answer had been drummed into her all her life. Because any fornication not for the purpose of creating children was wrong.

She knew the tingling in her body, the yearning in her blood should embarrass her, but it didn’t. Wanting Nicholas was as natural to her as breathing.

Yet she couldn’t meet his gaze during this meal, though she knew he often looked at her from his seat several tables away. Would he change his mind about meeting with her?

Could he read the struggle in her eyes? Did he fear she had second thoughts? She took a deep breath, concentrating on the rather bland fare on her plate.

Finally, without even a glance in Nicholas’s direction, Amice excused herself. She knew Nicholas would return to his quarters to keep gossiping tongues from wondering why he headed off with her. Neither wanted their names bandied about.

The moon was high when Amice heard the soft knock at her door. Anticipation coursed through her as she opened it.

Nicholas walked in. Firelight brought out the red in his dark hair. His welcoming smile sent a thrill up her spine. Any lingering doubt melted.

Would he hold her? Kiss her?

“I’m so glad we have this time.” He took her hand, running his thumb over the backs of her fingers. A shiver more delicious than the food ran up her arm.

“As am I. I’ve missed our friendship. I’ve missed you.” Challenge enough to confess that. How would she tell him more?

“I’ve missed you, too. I wish we were at Castle Rising.”

She wished the same with all her might.

They sat in contented silence, as if they’d agreed traveling down this rocky path couldn’t yet lead to a discussion of the future, their future, as if there could be one. There’d be too many questions with too few answers. For once, instead of worrying about what would be, they’d enjoy each other.

Amice mentioned the latest book she’d read. Nicholas replied, and put his arm around her. She leaned back, fitting perfectly against him. How wonderful to enjoy such closeness, share simple moments. But she wanted to be even closer to him.

The curtains on the high bed were open. She stood, facing him, motionless, her eyes wide. Boldly she started to untie the sash on her robe.

Nicholas sucked in a breath. Holding her close had been appetizing torture. But this…he needed to touch her.

He moved to her, then touched her face, using only the light pressure of his fingers on her cheek to draw her closer. He bent nearer. Her head fell back, her lips slightly parted, waiting. How beautiful she was, how sensuous. After a few seconds passed, she opened her eyes in surprise. He bent still nearer, until his lips were a scant inch from hers, delaying the moment, knowing there could be no going back.

How he desired her. His erection pushed against his hose. But he had to find restraint, so he could enjoy every moment that was to come.

At last he kissed her, pressing her soft body against his muscled one, his arms pulling her tight against him. She put her arms around his neck, twining her fingers in his hair.

His tongue delved into her mouth. Her eager response sent need surging. She untied her robe, offering him access to what lay beneath, glowing underneath his heated gaze. She pushed the robe off her shoulders.

Nicholas drew in his breath as she revealed herself, admiring her white skin, the curve of her hip, the fullness of her breasts, the proud look in her eyes. He had to hold her, had to feel her flesh against his. He tugged off his tunic.

His anticipation was so great, his need for her so tangible, how could he wait another minute to have her?

“I want to do that,” Amice breathed. Sliding her hands under his shirt, she smoothed her palms against the heat of his chest, exploring the contours of his muscles and following the path of his hair from his chest to….

He stilled her hand, desiring her touch but knowing in his present state it might be his undoing. After helping her remove his shirt, he tossed it to the floor. She put her nose to his chest, inhaling deeply, then kissed him, pressing her body to his.