Scoundrel's Kiss (43 page)

"Go with them,
mi ama,"
he
whispered, petting streaks of saltwater from her face. "I'll be treated
fairly now. You know that."

Wide blue eyes fixed at a point over
his shoulder.

"Ada? Ada, talk to me."

"Pacheco," she whispered.
"Check mate."

He froze. He had known as much. Pacheco
had slipped through. Whether or not Ada lived, whether Gavriel died as a final
punishment for Sancho's long-ago death—none of it had mattered to de
Silva.

He had only wanted the diversion.

Gavriel held Ada's gaze and blinked
once. Between their bodies, she pushed her dagger into his hands. He kissed her
forehead with all of the strange, beautiful love he possessed.

"Time to end this," he said.

He jumped to his feet and swiveled to
face the king. Alfonso and his attendants gasped, their wide eyes pinned to the
bared dagger. Gavriel moved fester than their startled thoughts, thrusting past
shocked bodies to where Pacheco lurked. Sword at the ready, there steps from
Alfonso, Pacheco wore an expression Gavriel knew well—one of desperation.

"Drop the sword!"

Pacheco laughed, a sound just short of
madness. Jacob pushed onlookers away from the impending duel and caught the
condesa around the waist, pivoting his body in front of hers. Armed guards
locked into place around the king.

"You are the weakest sort of
traitor, Gavriel," said Pacheco with a snarl. "You could not kill
your father or the king. Is it possible you still hope to be redeemed? I know
the truth you are too ignorant to understand."

Gavriel circled warily. He kept his
back to the small entourage, his body between Pacheco and the king. "And
what truth is that?"

"God does not want men like us
with Him. We were better off making our way down here. A good life of
comfort." He jerked his head to the wooden platform where a physician
still tended de Silva's grievous wound. "You have ruined that chance for
both of us."

"You should've considered that
before your plans threatened Ada."

"That drug-addled girl. You were
supposed to fail her just as you fail everything!"

"I haven't. And I won't. None of
us foresaw that. Now put down your weapon."

Pacheco parried. His sword glazed off
Gavriel's dagger and sent it flying. Agile and determined, Pacheco lunged
toward King Alfonso but Gavriel spun forward. The condesa screamed. Pain burst
to life in his gut where Pacheco's sword imbedded below his ribs.

Ada shrieked his name. "Help
him!"

He staggered back, his shoulders
supported by unseen hands as he collapsed to the ground. Half a dozen men
pounced on Pacheco, the man's enraged shouts suddenly silenced.

Alfonso's voice boomed over the shocked
group, demanding the return of his physician. "This man's loyalty is no
longer in question. Is that understood? Now offer him aid!"

Gavriel found no strength, no vigor
left. He slumped back.

The world swam in mottled colors as if
he had opened his eyes under water.

But then Ada's face appeared over him.
Tears bathed her face. "Gavriel!"

"Mi inglesa."
He
wanted to kiss her, but she seemed so far away, her face at the end of a long
tunnel. "Is he dead?"

"Yes," she whispered. 'Stay
with me. The doctor is coming."

He forced his eyes wide, trying to
focus. "Last night, I gave you everything I am. I would not kill for them,
not even for the promise of your safety. Couldn't trust them. Had to
fight."

"Oh, God. Is that what you
promised de Silva?"

"Please, Ada." She leaned
closer. He could barely hear his own voice. "Please, don't go back: Don't
go back to that darkness. Promise me."

"No! You cannot leave me."

He tried to smile and wondered if it
worked. His body was floating. "Promise me, because I won't be there to
drag you free again."

"I promise,
mi amo,
but
don't leave me. Please. Do you hear me, Gavriel? I'm asking please.""

Chapter 35

Jacob waited in a sitting room at Dona
Valdedrona's palace. The sun angled across the thick tapestries as afternoon
began its long, bright fade into evening. Dust motes clung to each slanting
ray. Two serving girls talked in hushed voices outside in the corridor, but
otherwise Jacob was left with his thoughts.

Three weeks had passed since the day
Gavriel de Marqueda saved the king's life. Jacob split his days between
answering questions, translating documents with Daniel of Morley's aid,
consulting with the authorities, and spending hours by Ada's side. She, in
turn, held Gavriel's hands, her lips always moving around some prayer or
whisper, stubbornly ignoring Jacob's pleas that she rest or eat.

His body ached from the fatigue of it
all. Ada had never been his, and too much time had passed since he had last
entertained the thought She belonged to Gavriel. The only thing Jacob could ask
for her sake was that her husband wholly recovered. Other wants and other
daydreams no longer had any place.

He turned to find Dona Valdedrona
standing in the doorway. Lovely as ever, draped in finery, her elaborately
plaited black hair accentuated the pale perfection of her skin. She whisked
into the room and proffered her hand. He bowed at the waist and brushed a
gentle kiss atop her knuckles.

"Milady," he greeted in
Norman. He escorted her to a settee and took the opposite seat. "What
news? That is, if you're at liberty."

"For you, I am," she said.
"His Majesty has reached an accord of sorts with his cousin. Ferdinand has
admitted no wrongdoing, but he agreed to exile the remaining members of the de
Silva family. With Lord de Silva dead of his wounds, the clan is quietly
preparing to leave for Morocco. For good."

Impotent anger burned beneath his skin.
"Then the Leonese get away with their scheme? We broke their alliance with
the Almohads, but they may find another renegade family. Any of the
ricos
hombres
with funds enough to equip an army can threaten us."

"The kings are meeting in Segovia
to negotiate a renewed truce. Another five years of peace." She looked
down at her clasped hands and shook her head slowly. Sunlight blazed against
her inky hair. "I know it isn't ideal, but at least Alfonso is safe. For
now. We have you to thank for that."

His mind jumped to the small room where
Ada still sat with Gavriel. She had suffered. They both had. Jacob thought
himself young and floundering when compared to their sacrifices. But at least
he had seen the truth before it was too late. Ada had been right; the scrolls
implicated Pacheco. Jacob had played a ruse of his own on that day of combat,
allowing the king to venture into the crowd as he had, allowing everyone to
believe Gavriel would be arrested.

Yes, his plan had worked—but the
cost had nearly been two innocent lives.

"I... I did so little."

"Nonsense," the condesa said,
her smile widening. "You did all I could ever ask from one in my employ.
And King Alfonso agrees with me."

"Oh?"

"You've been awarded
ajuderia
in
the north."

His mouth gaped wide. Manners dictated
that he should mask his surprise, but he could not find the resources.
"You're in earnest, milady? My own estate?"

Her smile eased into a gentle laugh.
"Your very own. And you'll have use of my men and materiel until you
become established." She hesitated, a blush fanning across her cheeks.
"Some resist the idea of awarding parcels to Jewish courtiers, but I cannot
think of a reason why you don't deserve this. And my thanks."

He choked back the throb of emotion in
his throat "I am... milady, I—"

"I know, Jacob." She reached
over and squeezed his hand. But for reasons he could not discern, her smile
dimmed.

"What is it?" he asked.

"His Majesty has offered one other
reward: a position with his guard. He values your skill and shrewdness and
would like you with him at court. The opportunity is a marvelous one."

He frowned. "You're sending me
away?"

"The choice was not mine,"
she said, heir voice catching. "In truth, I had hoped you might remain in
my employ. My trusted advisors have been killed. Those who remain are more
loyal to my late husband than to me." She appeared young and strong, yes,
but also tired. Her honeyed eyes never left his face. "And yes, His
Majesty has asked it of you, Jacob ben Asher. Would you refuse him?"

Jacob had always wanted to be a
warrior, a man to be respected among brave, skilled peers. Now he would have
his chance, serving at the court of the most powerful king in Iberia. But he
would have to leave the condesa's service...

"And what of you?" he asked.

"I'll fare as I always have,
except I'll have Blanca to keep me company." She sighed quietly and forced
a wan smile.

King Alfonso would never need him. Not
this much.

In a rueful humor, he shook his head.
Maybe he would never learn. These years with Ada should have taught him hard,
irrevocable lessons about wanting what could never be. Yet faced with Dona
Valdedrona's faltering bravery, her tense shoulders and nervous fingers, Jacob
made his decision— one as reckless and needful as any Ada had ever made.

"I would be honored to serve our
king, milady," he said, the words low and intimate. "However, I will
obey his summons only if his request becomes a command. My place is with
you."

Understanding slowly transformed her
expression into one of placid, gentle hopefulness. "You'll stay?"

"For as long as you require,
milady."

Dona Valdedrona inhaled deeply. Her
demeanor seemed to brighten, as if his pledge had transformed her burdens into
nothing more weighty than a spider's silk.

"Now," she said, elegantly
lacing her fingers in her lap, "how is Ada and her patient?"

Jacob basked in her shimmering
happiness and knew he was lost.
Here I go again.

"Her father trained her in
pharmacology," he said. "Did you know that? Years ago, back in
England. Now that Gavriel is recovering at last, I believe she's prescribed bed
rest."

She arched a dark brow. Her lips
quirked. "Bed rest, Jacob?"

"Yes, milady. Plenty of bed rest."

Ada awoke from a light doze to find
Gavriel's eyes open and watching her. After three weeks on the mend, she had
not stopped holding her breath. Although his skin retained the taint of
illness, and his cheekbones jutted from his gaunt face, his vigor continued to
surprise her. The grievous stab wound no longer threatened him. Those dark,
dark eyes teemed with life.

Daylight had almost faded. Shadows
alternated with deep orange streaks of sun, playing in a pattern of stripes
across the bed. Beneath the woolen mantle that covered his body, Gavriel wore
nothing. His long limbs would stretch from his naked torso, hard, lean, covered
with dark hair. She had washed, tended, and wept over his inert body, praying
as she never had for mercy. The fierce and ragged gash below his ribs had
burned red, a defaced altar, and the scars on his back still had the power to
bring her to tears.

But now it was different. He was awake,
healing.
And he was hers.
A hot, fierce need to touch and adore coiled
inside her, the longing for passion and for an assurance of his health.

They had yet to speak of their marriage
vows or the future. Assuming they would both awaken in the morning still seemed
dangerous. Now she had to suppress her fear once again. Her need for him was as
strong and undeniable as it had ever been, all the more powerful because of the
danger they had survived and the daring promises they had made. She had to know
what he wanted

Straightening in her chair, she went to
push hair from her forehead. Although it was a little longer now, trimmed
neatly with proper shears, the reflex to tend her missing hair remained. She
glanced to Gavriel and found him smiling.

"You'll start a new custom,"
he said.

"Hardly. I'm more a cautionary
tale."

"Castilians take pride in a good scandal.
It sets them apart."

She joined him, sitting on the edge of
his bed. Pain brushed up her back.

"You shouldn't be sleeping in that
chair," he said. "Not with your own injury on the mend."

"They offered me opium. Did you
know that?"

His expression darkened.
"Offered?"

"And I refused."

"Ada," he said quietly, his
eyes full of triumph, "you did it on your own."

A slow warmth unfurled in her chest as
she took a long, deep breath. She
had
done it She knew temptation would
always follow her, but the time for thoughtlessly heeding its call had passed.
That knowledge and Gavriel's proud devotion healed the last of her dark wounds,
the unseen wounds that had plagued her for so long. A future unlike any she had
ever dared imagine opened before her, beckoning them both.