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BOOK: Claire Delacroix
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Alys could not halt her smile. “You are a rogue, sir!”

“You sound less convinced of it than you were before.” The smile faded from Burke’s lips. His gaze clung to hers as if he hoped for confirmation.

There was that irresistible vulnerability once more.

“ ’Tis true enough,” Alys acknowledged. She watched Burke’s eyes flash, then let her fingers slide down his jaw and over his throat. She nestled closer, then cupped his face into her hands. Alys tried to ease into the matter, as he had bidden her, her lips touching Burke’s as tentatively as a butterfly landing on a flower.

’Twas excruciating to let the lady have her way with him.

But on the other hand, ’twas a marvel to have Alys touch him willingly. Indeed, Burke was stunned by the fact that he had won more this night by doing naught than he had gained with his concerted pursuit of the lady.

There was a lesson here and he did not miss its import. For his Alys came to him. She touched him. She kissed him of her own choice.

’Twas an intoxicating development.

Burke closed his eyes when Alys’s lips brushed against his own; the warm scent of her made his blood roar. Her innocence was beguiling, her cautious trust humbling. She dared to face a fear, at his urging, and Burke wanted her only to win success. He certainly did not want to frighten her.

Even if he did desire her more than he had ever imagined a man might desire a woman and survive to tell the tale.

Alys’s fingertips flattened against his jaw, she sidled closer, her breasts brushed against his chest. Burke’s chausses tightened; he dared to let his hands fall to the back of her waist. She was so slender, so supple and strong. Burke closed his hands around her and she did not resist.

Indeed, Alys nibbled on his mouth, the tentativeness of her touch nearly driving Burke mad. She nestled yet closer, her lips moving slowly against his own. Alys’s hands slid into his hair and launched an army of shivers over Burke’s flesh.

Her lips lingered against his, as if she knew not how to proceed, and Burke permitted himself to make a suggestion. He tilted his head, letting his mouth slant across hers, and nearly moaned aloud when Alys promptly followed suit. Burke opened his mouth, let his tongue touch her lips.

Alys echoed his gesture, the slick heat of her tongue darting between his teeth, and Burke thought he would explode. He inhaled, struggled to contain his desire, and gripped her waist more resolutely. Alys arched, fitting against Burke as if she were wrought for him.

She kissed him more deeply and he responded in kind. She was in his lap before he knew how the deed was managed, her hands gripped the back of his neck, her buttocks wriggled restlessly against his thighs. Burke rolled her to her back atop the sacks of grain before he could think to halt the impulse and Alys kissed him with fervor, her legs tangling with his.

Burke silently vowed to let the lady have her way with him
more often. Aye, he could well discard compliments for all time if their absence won such a prize as this kiss.

Then Alys’s tongue cavorted with his and Burke could think no longer. He felt her nipples tighten against his chest and could not resist temptation. His hand rose to cup the ripe curve of her breast. He deepened his kiss when she arched and trembled. Burke’s thumb slid across her turgid nipple and Alys moaned into his mouth.

The minute sound recalled Burke to his senses.

He could not prove himself of the same ilk as her father.

Burke disengaged himself with clumsy haste and set Alys deliberately aside. He shoved to his feet and put the width of the room between them, closed his eyes and took a trio of deep breaths.

It did not check his desire markedly. He could still hear her accelerated breathing, he could smell her skin. He licked his lips and tasted her sweet kiss.

Burke did not dare to look at Alys for fear he would not be able to resist her. His own quickened breathing mingled in his ears with the thunder of his pulse.

Ye gods, had he ever felt such raging desire?

When Burke finally composed himself sufficiently to risk a downward glance, the leap of his heart was no reassurance. Alys’s lips were swollen and reddened, her nipples strained against the heavy wool of her kirtle. Her cheeks were flushed and more than one wavy golden tendril had worked itself free of her braid to curl softly against her cheek. Her bare feet were tucked beneath her, her kirtle caught around her knees, the very sight kicking Burke’s desire to the very moon.

He had only a glimpse of the myriad questions in Alys’s golden eyes before she dropped her gaze, the thickness of her lashes brushing her cheeks.

“I apologize for my lack of skill, that I am not practiced
enough to please,” she said huskily, and Burke nearly laughed aloud. She had almost destroyed his considerable resolve and she apologized for
inadequacy
?

But then he realized his lady’s embarrassment. Burke dropped to one knee to reassure her, but still left a pace between them for he did not trust himself to be closer. Everything within him clamored to finish what she had begun, but Burke did not dare.

He would not sacrifice what fragile trust he had won.

Alys knotted her hands together in her lap, her fair brows drawing together in a frown. She studiously avoided Burke’s gaze.

“Alys, look at me,” he urged softly.

“I do not know much of such matters. You must think me a fool …”

“Alys, your touch inflames me as naught else could do.”

“But you pulled away. I must have done something amiss.”

“Nay, you did all aright!” Burke let himself smile slowly. “But you have a way of making me forget myself.”

Alys flushed anew, though her eyes sparkled and the hint of a smile curved her lips. “ ’Twas just a kiss!”

“Aye, a kiss of alluring portent. Do not imagine, Alys, that I could trust myself to savor more of your kiss and halt myself in time.” Alys looked so startled by this confession that Burke moved closer and took her hand in his.

She was trembling, just as he quivered inside. ’Twas a powerful love between them, Burke knew it well, just as he knew he would be seven kinds of fool to let this lady escape his side.

“Alys, I pledged to treat you with honor and I will do so, for I understand the import of your mother’s experience to you.” She parted her lips but Burke lifted one finger to silence her. “I also will find spouses for both of your cousins to prove my will in this. Talbot, I believe, will serve well for Malvina—”

“But he does not desire her. Burke, you cannot simply force people to your will!”

“I have only introduced a possibility.” Burke smiled.

“ ’Twill be Lady Deirdre’s manipulative nature that will see results.”

“How so?”

“I do not believe your aunt will suffer such an eligible knight to leave this place alive and unwed.”

“And what of Brigid?” Alys looked concerned. “Would you compel an unwilling man to wed her?”

Burke folded his fingers around Alys’s hand, appreciating how she cared for her youngest cousin. “Nay, Alys, I have a friend, an old comrade, whom I thought of since speaking with Brigid. He is a kind man, a knight who is noble but shy, and one who has been wounded by many heartless beauties. He has vowed never to trust a woman again.”

Hope lit Alys’s wondrous eyes. “You believe he and Brigid would make a good match?”

“Aye. Ride with me to find out, Alys.” The words fell from his lips in haste, for Burke feared that his lady would refuse him this. “Let us ride with Brigid to Paris. We will find this friend of mine, we shall see if they might make a match.”

But Alys pulled her fingers from his grip. “I could not leave Heloise.” She pushed to her feet and turned away from him, her manner telling Burke success had been snatched away.

“Alys! You cannot spend all your days here because of an anchorite you hold dear!”

“I cannot abandon her, Burke.” Alys folded her arms across her chest. “ ’Twas Heloise alone who cared for me. I owe her much!”

“But not
all,
Alys.” Burke did not pursue his lady, but held his own ground. Her quick glance told him that she was more tempted by his offer than she would like to show, and he endeavored to persuade her without fine words. “Alys, ’tis the
only way to find Brigid a spouse, for none come to Kiltorren. And we shall ensure Heloise is back within the hall before we leave.”

Alys rubbed a hand over her brow. “But Aunt cannot be trusted.”

Burke stepped forward and caught her shoulders in his hands. “I shall resolve this matter with Heloise, Alys,” he insisted. She looked up, her gaze searching. “Trust me.”

And Alys smiled slightly. She touched Burke’s jaw then shook her head, her words falling softly. “Do you not understand, Burke? ’Tis myself I do not trust in this.” She stepped away before he could make sense of that and paused on the threshold of the storeroom. “Will you go with me to see Heloise on the morrow? ’Tis a day earlier than I usually go, and she should not welcome a man to her seclusion, but …”

“I will go.” Burke understood that this elderly woman’s endorsement was the only judgment Alys would trust. Ye gods, but he hoped the woman recalled him, or thought well of him now.

“After Mass,” Alys murmured, but hesitated to leave.

“Will you consider my suggestion? Think of Brigid’s happiness and how she longs to be wed.”

To Burke’s confusion, shadows haunted his lady’s fine eyes. What was amiss? “How can you be assured she will be happy with a stranger?”

“Guillaume de Crevy-sur-Seine is no stranger to me. I trained for knighthood with him. He is the same age as I, a hand shorter, browner of hair and blacker of eye. His hand is steady, he fights well when necessary but provokes naught. His father crusaded to Jerusalem, his mother runs Crevy-sur-Seine since that man’s demise, though in truth it is Guillaume’s own.”

When Alys simply listened, Burke continued. “Crevy is a
prosperous estate, though not wealthy beyond compare. Guillaume has a sister who is wed and has three small children. She and her spouse are vassals of Guillaume’s and hold a manor on the holding. Brigid would not want for company in that keep, of that you may be assured, and she would want for naught as Guillaume’s bride. They all, each and every one, are good-hearted people.”

Burke exhaled. “Brigid could fare worse, Alys. He would never raise a hand against a woman, he does not drink overmuch, he does not make war. I believe that Guillaume would go far to cultivate a lady’s love if he found her fetching.”

Alys bit her lip. “But will he?”

Burke made an appeal to his lady’s good sense. “We can only find out if we travel to his keep. He will not come this far for promise of a bride, not after all he has endured from women. We can only take Brigid there and let her charm do the rest.”

“You believe it will.”

Burke nodded. “I believe she is precisely the sweet and gentle manner of woman who will capture Guillaume’s heart.”

Alys hesitated. “And Guillaume is a good man?”

“He is my best friend.” Burke stepped closer to secure her agreement, but Alys abruptly shook her head.

“But ’twould not be appropriate for the three of us to travel together.” Her words fell flat, as if she made an excuse. “Nay, Burke it cannot be done.”

Yet again Burke felt cheated to have her close agreement snatched away. “We shall take a chaperone!” he roared. “Ye gods, Alys, we shall take your cursed aunt if need be! Have you not learned that I will not take nay for an answer?”

She considered him for a moment. Her words fell so quietly that Burke nearly missed them. “And is your will the only matter of import in this?”

Dismay erupted within Burke and yet again he knew he had chosen his words wrongly. “Nay, Alys! ’Tis not so!”

But with a flick of her skirt, his lady was gone.

Burke swore and kicked a sack with such vengeance that the canvas tore and spilled the grain. He shoved his hand through his hair and scowled at his surroundings, his blood still afire from Alys’s shy kiss.

Burke sat down heavily on the leaking sack of grain and sighed. Then he bent, scooped up the mug, and drained the ale from it in one gulp. He had surprised his lady, ’twas true, he had not phrased matters aright.

But all was far from lost. As his temper faded, Burke conceded the truth. On this day, he
had
found a spouse for Malvina, which was no small victory. And Alys
had
kissed him, most passionately, of her own choice. He had learned something of the lady, even if he had been slow to put it to use.

Aye, Burke would reflect upon his gains alone.

Chapter Thirteen

lys lay awake most of the night, alternately savoring and regretting her impulsive kiss, calling herself a fool and wondering if Burke would think her wanton. She finally fell asleep just before the dawn, only to awaken out of sorts. ’Twas a sullen grey day, the skies heavy with the threat of rain, and far from the finest weather to set out on the journey to visit Heloise.

BOOK: Claire Delacroix
12.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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