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Claire Delacroix (55 page)

BOOK: Claire Delacroix
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Alys rolled her eyes but, before she could speak, Burke stepped forward and snatched her shoulders. She caught her breath and her eyes widened, as reassuring a sign of her awareness as could be. She was soft beneath his hands, her pulse fluttered at her throat, and the sweet scent of her skin inundated him.

Something had gone sorely awry and Burke meant to repair it.

And then he would have that kiss.

“I made that offer, just as surely as you spurned it,” Burke insisted, willing Alys to believe him. “I pledged for your hand, I offered to wed you three years past.” He felt a measure of his own hurt filter into his words. “Truly, Alys, I thought you would have the dignity at least to refuse me yourself.”

Alys frowned and uncertainty filtered into her gaze. “But …”

Burke needed no more encouragement than that to press his appeal. He pulled her closer, noting how she leaned toward him, and sensed success in the wind. “Alys, I would see a return to that sweet afternoon. I would begin again …”

Alys’s eyes flashed and she ducked from beneath his hands, quickly putting the steaming tub between them. “Aye! But you would fully make a whore of me this time!”


What?
!” Burke lunged after her, wanting to shake some sense into this infuriating woman his Alys had become. The lady suddenly scooped up one of the buckets she had brought.
The water within spilled slightly over one side at her hasty gesture.

“ ’Tis icy cold, sir, and likely not the bath you desire,” she warned with a surety of herself that Burke could not ever recall witnessing in her before. “Keep away from me or you shall wear its contents.”

Burke folded his arms across his chest and surveyed this unexpectedly bold damsel. He had no doubt she would do as she threatened.

Truly his Alys had changed.

And truly she was much, much more interesting than the sweet maiden he recalled.

Ye gods, but Burke was glad he was right! ’Twould be a fine battle to win, for this Alys would kiss like a goddess once she knew he had done naught wrong. Their reconciliation would be well worth whatever price he paid.

But the issue remained—how could she not have known of his proposal? It made absolutely no sense …

Unless her family had lied to her.

Burke caught his breath in certainty that he had guessed the truth. Indeed, they did not treat Alys well in any other matter; why should this be different? If that were true, was it so very surprising that Alys had lost her faith in him?

Burke wished with sudden fervor that he had never been so trusting as to leave without hearing the lady’s refusal fall from her own lips.

What other lies had been told of him and his deeds?

Burke propped his hands on his hips and leaned across the steaming tub to hold Alys’s steady gaze. “I would know the fullness of the crimes for which you hold me accountable.”

“You have forgotten them already?” Alys asked mildly.

Burke felt his lips thin. “It would seem that I am ignorant of them.” He lifted a brow in turn. “Or, perhaps,
innocent
of them.”

“Innocent” she echoed, and a playful smile unexpectedly curved her lips. “I hardly think that innocence would be one of your attributes, Burke.”

Burke could not help but grin at the truth of that. “To be falsely charged is perhaps not quite the same as to be innocent,” he conceded.

Alys chuckled as if she wished she could stop herself, then bit her lip. She sobered and eyed him with sudden solemnity. “You had best have your bath before it grows cold.”

’Twas an abrupt change of topic, but Burke recognized the good sense of it. And he
was
in dire need of a bath. Perhaps that was what offended his lady.

Burke eyed Alys, not at all certain he could predict her response in these days. “And then you will tell me of this?”

Alys held his gaze. “No doubt I will tell you more than you have any desire to know.”

Fair enough. Burke nodded approval, shed his torn aketon, then hauled his linen chemise over his head.

He flicked a glance to Alys who watched him warily, and his voice turned gruff. “Turn around. ’Tis not fitting for you to see a man fully.”

Alys cast him a challenging glance. “I thought you had no care for my reputation.”

“You thought wrong,” Burke retorted.

“Then why request to have me here?” Alys set the bucket down with a thump and propped one hand upon her hip. “ ’Tis no place for a maiden. How could you compromise me thus?”

“I would not compromise you!” Burke insisted. “ ’Twas the only place I could think that we would be undisturbed and where none could hear our words.” Alys’s skepticism seemed unaffected by this claim, so Burke willed his determination to show. “Your honor is the concern of none beyond myself.”

She seemed surprised by his vehemence and momentarily
at a loss for words. Burke felt more irritable than he could recall—’twas one matter for a man’s deeds to be found wanting, quite another for the lady of his heart to judge him harshly when he had done naught amiss.

Burke frowned pointedly at the lady in question when he reached for the drawstring on his chausses. He was almost surprised when she did his bidding and turned away.

Burke dropped his chausses and climbed into the tub, soothed as the warm water closed over him. Indeed, ’twas enough to dismiss his foul mood and rekindle his usual optimism. He
would
persuade Alys of the truth, and then she would welcome his return with open arms.

Indeed, Burke had never failed at achieving any goal before, let alone one of such import. Why should his fortune change now? Once he knew the crimes for which she held him guilty and the lies she had been told, Burke could refute them with the truth.

’Twould be simple.

“Tell me, Alys,” he invited gently. “Tell me what is amiss.”

But the lady darted around the tub. She picked up all of Burke’s garments, unbolted the door, and cast them out into the corridor with unrestrained glee. Burke watched Alys in astonishment, momentarily distracted by the way her faded blue dress clung to her curves and her bare feet flashed beneath the worn hem.

When she spun to face him, Burke was startled that the lady’s eyes suddenly shone with mischief. Her expression put him so in mind of a younger Alys that he did not immediately understand what she had done. Indeed, that dimple fleetingly returned.

Then Alys shot the bolt home with a victorious gesture and Burke frowned.

Why had she cast out his clothes?

“And now,” she declared triumphantly, “you are completely
at my mercy, sir.” Before Burke could comprehend her actions Alys picked up a bucket of water once more. She advanced upon him with a determination that seemed a bad omen for his immediate future.

“What is this you do?” Burke demanded, half rising from the tub before he recalled her maidenly innocence.

And his own aroused state.

He sat down with a splash, his gaze falling on the flash of her feet beneath the hem of that cursedly short kirtle, and matters became worse. If only he had some garb! He felt his eyes widen as she hefted the bucket, her expression one of resolve.

Verily, he was trapped.

Something clearly had gone awry, but Burke did not know what. After all, ’twas not like
his
Alys to be so unpredictable.

But his Alys was locked away inside this intriguing stranger, this woman who defied and challenged him, and prompted his desire in ways that his maiden had not.

“Now, Burke de Montvieux,” Alys confided with a little smile that made Burke’s blood quicken despite his predicament, “I shall tell you precisely what you have done, no less what I think of your deeds.”

And Burke realized that he had made a miscalculation, no less one that might prove most dire.

To Alys’s surprise, she did not feel nearly as victorious as expected when she had Burke cornered. ’Twas just his infernal charm working upon her resolve, she knew it well.

And indeed, he did not even
look
cornered, which was most unsatisfactory.

For a fleeting moment, alarm had flashed in his eyes, then Burke settled back in the tub with an indulgent smile. The man looked supremely in control of the situation, even though he sat nude in a tub of water, devoid of garb and completely at her whim. He watched her carefully, though Alys
imagined a dozen plans of action were already forming in his mind.

But she would not be deterred. Alys stepped closer. “Three years past, you kissed me in the stables.”

Burke arched a dark brow and settled back into the tub, his eyes narrowing as he considered her. The water swirled about him, steam rising from the surface of the water. The sight of his broad, bare, and tanned shoulders did little to bolster Alys’s resolve.

“Aye, that I did.” The admission fell readily from Burke’s lips. Indeed, he looked untroubled. “As I recall, you, my lady fair, did kiss me back.”

Much to Alys’s irritation, the knight looked bemused.

Burke leaned forward and braced his elbows on the rim of the tub, a devilish glint dancing in his eyes. “Indeed, if ’tis another kiss you desire, Alys, you have but to ask.” He grinned and Alys’s heart skipped a beat. “ ’Twould be my pleasure.”

“Your pleasure is precisely the issue between us!” Alys dropped the bucket to shake a finger at this suavely confident knight. “You took advantage of my innocence and my trust.”

“You enjoyed those kisses as well, Alys.”

Alys flushed at the truth of that. “But you took advantage of the fact that I knew naught of knights of your kind!”

Burke’s eyes flashed and he leaned forward with new intensity. “My
kind
? Why does that not sound complimentary, Alys?”

Alys tipped up her chin proudly. “I refer to rogue knights, who take their pleasure and care naught for the consequences.”

At that, Burke took umbrage. He straightened and his dark brows drew together. “I am no rogue knight!”

“Nay? Would you have halted with fondling my breast had we not been interrupted?” she demanded, hating the catch that appeared in her voice. “Or would you have had your way with me fully before you abandoned both me and Kiltorren?”

“Alys!” Burke’s expression turned shocked, and Alys was glad she knew how readily he lied. “I never abandoned you …”

“Nay, you have returned to finish your seduction while you court my cousins.” Burke caught his breath, but Alys could not halt now. “What of this demand that I service you in the bath? How can you imagine that the hall will not be full of tales as a result?”

“I care naught for servants’ tales!”

“I
do
! Did it occur to you to consider my honor in this? I must live in this hall, I must survive beneath my aunt’s thumb, and when she calls me ‘whore,’ I assure you ’tis not without consequence.”

“Alys, I would never dishonor you.”

“That seems an empty claim after you have done precisely that!” Alys dared to lean closer and dropped her voice to a determined undertone. “My aunt made much of my loose morals these three years, as any fool might imagine, and I have learned the price such a charge does bear. Do not imagine that I shall indulge your whim, for I know now the manner of man that you are.”

“Do tell,” Burke invited softly. He was dangerously still, his eyes glinting, and Alys knew the satisfaction of having captured his attention fully.

“Incorrigible, impossible, and not to be trusted,” she declared, leaning ever closer to make her point. “And know, sir, that I shall
never
be fool enough to believe you, let alone cede to your touch, ever again!”

Burke’s eyes flashed, but Alys did not note the warning before he had caught her about the waist. At his abrupt move, she lost her balance and tumbled against him. There was no time to fear she might fall, for Burke caught her protectively against his chest. Her hip was perched on the edge of the tub, Burke’s arms were wrapped around her, her kirtle trailed into the bathwater.

And Alys could not look away from the resolve in Burke’s gaze. Indeed, she could not seem to summon the strength to move, not even when he inclined his head, not even when his lips hovered a finger’s breadth above her own.

Because she knew what he intended to do.

And despite all her fine words, Alys wanted naught more than that kiss.

Curse him.

“Have you had your say?” Burke murmured. Alys remained silent.

“Then I shall have mine,” Burke declared with low resolve, his gaze unswerving. “You should know me well enough to know I can never resist a challenge. We shall touch again, my lady, and often. Upon that you have my solemn pledge.”

Burke smiled, that slow crooked smile that had always stolen away Alys’s breath.

Her breath did indeed abandon her, as if she knew naught of this man who held her in his possessive grip, as if she knew naught of the price of wanton urges. Her heart pounded in anticipation of his touch, and Alys hated herself for being her mother’s daughter.

“You are, after all, my own lady fair,” Burke continued so deliberately that Alys’s mouth went dry. “I have won you before and I shall win you once again. And that, Alys, you may rely upon.”

BOOK: Claire Delacroix
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