Authors: Julia Templeton
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Erotica, #Historical, #General
Defiance shone brightly in the young man's eyes. "I know
your
king will continue to burn the north, leaving not a soul alive, not even an animal. He would oppress the entire country to retain his power, and that to me is not a king. Your king is a tyrant. What kind of man would want to swear allegiance to such a man?"
The boy's treasonous words angered Renaud, but he did not let Adelstan see it. Instead, Renaud's mind raced, wondering what he could do to change this young man's fate. "For Aleysia's sake, will you consider it?"
At the mention of his twin, Adelstan flinched and Renaud knew he had found the boy's weakness: Adelstan's love of his sister. "She will be alone, Adelstan."
Adelstan swallowed hard, his jaw clenched tight. "Duncan will come for her."
"He has already come and gone."
"When?"
"Days ago."
Adelstan frowned. "I heard no fighting."
"There was no fight."
"He left? So swiftly?"
"He did. He brought a small army who could not stand up to my men. It would have been suicide."
Disbelief came over the Saxon's features, and for a while he said nothing. He ran a hand down his face. "Aleysia remains at Braemere?"
"Aye, she does."
Adelstan cursed under his breath. "I cannot believe Duncan left without her. Did he offer money?"
"He did."
"And you refused?"
"I did."
Renaud did not want to hurt Adelstan any more than he was already hurting, but he felt like he owed the young man the truth. "Adelstan, MacMillan asked only for Aleysia's release. He said you could remain in Braemere's prison for all eternity."
The young Saxon fell silent for a moment, his gaze searching Renaud's so intently as to be uncomfortable. It was clear he did not believe him. "He did not ask for my release?" he asked in disbelief.
"Nay, he did not."
"And you say this as a man of honor, and not as a means to coerce me into swearing allegiance to King William?"
"I swear on my honor, Adelstan. MacMillan told me to do with you what I would. He wanted only Aleysia."
Adelstan took a step back as though he'd been struck. "The bastard! To think my father had depended on this man to protect us to the death. He must be pleased to know that soon my body parts will be scattered across England."
"I am sorry, Adelstan."
He shook his head. "I always knew he disliked me. I could see it in his face whenever I was around."
"Does this change your mind about swearing homage to King William?"
This time Adelstan was not as quick to respond. He looked down at the floor, his brow furrowed. Silent moments passed, but Renaud did not push him for an answer.
Adelstan rubbed the back of his neck. "I cannot swear fealty to your king. I cannot. Too much blood has been spilled because of him. Look at what he has done to the north. It is now a barren wasteland. Why would a king do such a thing to his own lands and his own people?"
"Such is the way of war, Adelstan. You do what you must in order to survive. William was given this land by Edward because he believed William would strengthen it."
"By stripping Saxon nobles of their lands and titles? By marrying off its daughters and widows to lusty Norman barons who have no use for them after they bear children?" Adelstan laughed sardonically. "What would my father think—or my people, if I bowed to such a king?"
"That you saved yourself, and your sister. You have avenged your parents' deaths, and done far more than most men. Your parents would be proud of you. I know it, just as your sister is proud of you. Aleysia needs you, Adelstan. Think of her happiness."
Adelstan shook his head. "I cannot swear allegiance to him. Not even for Aleysia."
Renaud nodded. "I wish things were different, Adelstan. I would have been honored to have you amongst my ranks." Unable to stand the haunted look in the boy's eyes, Renaud left.
CHAPTER 13
Aleysia sat on the high dais, a few seats down from Renaud, who conversed with his guests: three soldiers who had fought with him years ago and had secured their own fiefs in the north. He seemed in a fair mood, though he barely touched his food, his thoughts clearly somewhere else.
Elena sat to Aleysia's right and leaned close to her. "Aleysia, see Galeran there. Do you know that woman to whom he speaks?"
Aleysia, shaken from her thoughts, followed Elena's line of vision to where Galeran stood talking to a servant girl. The woman, a little younger than Aleysia herself, laughed innocently and blushed profusely at something Galeran said.
"He is taken with her. Look at him. He even blushes," Elena whispered so no one else could hear them, but there was no mistaking the jealousy in her voice.
"You fancy Galeran, do you not?"
Elena turned and smiled. "Indeed, I do. Do you think that silly? Me, a woman who is old enough to be his mother?"
"Nay, I do not think it is silly at all... and you are not that old."
"I am three and thirty."
"You do not look it, and what does age matter? Look how old your husband was, and none seemed to be concerned at the difference in your ages."
Elena laughed without mirth. '"Tis different for men. They can marry anyone they wish, and age does not figure into it. But for women, we are considered old by the time we have met our twentieth year. Used, discarded, and once you have children, men often look elsewhere. It is the curse of our kind, I suppose."
"It is most unfair."
Elena nodded. "Aye, 'tis a man's world, my dear. It always will be."
"I wish I had been born a man."
"I love your spirit, dearest Aleysia," Elena said, laughing. "Nearly as much as my brother loves you."
Aleysia's heart jolted and her cheeks burned. "Your brother does not love me."
Elena took a sip of wine. "He cares for you. You have crept beneath his skin. Something no other woman has done. Love. Lust. It is all the same in the end."
"Is it really? I thought there would be a difference."
"Lust is when you want a person so badly that you think you might perish if you do not get him. Or when your heart pumps nearly out of your chest when he enters a room," Elena said.
Aleysia knew that feeling well. Ironically, it seemed that a room would light up when Renaud entered, and that same light extinguished when he left. "What of love?"
Elena lifted a dark brow. "Love is when you care so much for another, you cannot imagine life without them. It's all consuming. You love everything about him, wonder about him when he's not with you. Trust me, Aleysia. You will know when you are in love."
"Have you ever been in love?"
The sides of Elena's mouth curved. "Once, a very long time ago. I was a little younger than you when I fell in love with a groom."
"Did he love you as well?"
Elena smiled softly. "Aye, he did. I will never forget the first time he kissed me. 'Twas heaven."
"What happened?"
"My father discovered our liaison. I think it was one of his soldiers who told him, a man who secretly coveted me for his own. Unfortunately, the groom was sent away, and I never saw him again."
"I'm sorry. How devastated you must have been."
Elena shrugged. "I cried myself to sleep many a night, but the heart often heals itself in time, and I survived it."
Aleysia stole a glance over at Renaud, relieved to find him deep in conversation with one of his men-at-arms. "What of his betrothed?"
Setting her goblet down, Elena leaned forward. "Morgana was a spoiled, pampered woman. A beauty, yes, but she cared nothing for others. I was never fond of her, and well she knew it."
"I understand she was furious when she heard of Renaud's leman."
Elena grinned coyly. "Her pride could not stand that Renaud wanted another, especially when he was to wed
her,
the most sought-after woman in the French court. It didn't matter that his leman had been his lover long before his betrothal, or that she was one of Renaud's many mistresses. Nay, Morgana could not bear the humiliation."
"So she attacked Renaud?"
"Aye, she did that, but there is more. Feeling slighted, Morgana took a lover, certain she would win back Renaud's affection out of jealousy alone. Unfortunately, she became pregnant with that man's child and tried to pass it off as Renaud's—thereby trapping him into marriage. Thank goodness her lover came forward and admitted the liaison. That was when Morgana attacked Renaud. It caused quite a scandal, I must say."
"So he never did love her?"
"Nay."
How relieved Aleysia was at that simple word.
"He has never loved anyone. But you, my dear, might just be the one to change all that."
"I will never love him," Aleysia blurted, feeling stupid and childish the moment the words came out.
"Sometimes our minds and hearts conflict, but perhaps one day they will collide and you will feel differently." Elena glanced over at Galeran again, who still spoke to the servant girl. "Do you know that the only reason Renaud asked Philip along to York was because he did not want him near you?"
Oddly, the knowledge that Renaud was jealous of Philip pleased her. "Nay, I thought him a good soldier."
"I heard on good authority that he nearly killed Philip in practice. Indeed, see for yourself. There, to the right. Philip is sporting a bruised face."
Aleysia found Philip amongst the other soldiers, and he indeed looked battered and bruised.
"You see, Aleysia, as women we do have some power over men. Think you Renaud would have paid Philip any mind if he hadn't been conversing with you earlier? Also, it did not help that Philip gave you a flower. It is up to us to use that power to our advantage."
"How?"
"To make men jealous. To make them want us. To burn for us, until they can no longer contain their desire. Watch. You see how Galeran speaks to the servant wench? Though it seems like he is intent on everything she says, I believe he is watching us from the corner of his eye." Elena took the shawl from her shoulders and let it fall beneath the table, where she then kicked it off the high dais and onto the floor below. With a wink, Elena turned to the man at her right. "Richard, is it?" she asked the brawny soldier, who appeared surprised by the sudden attention. "I have dropped my shawl. Would you be so kind as to fetch it for me?"
The man smiled widely. "Indeed, my lady."
As the soldier went after the shawl, Elena watched his every move, as though she could not take her eyes off him. "Now tell me, is Galeran still speaking to the servant, or is he watching me?"
Aleysia glanced where Galeran had been, and found him instead heading their way, or more specifically, toward the shawl. "He is heading for us."
Elena grinned. "You see?"
Galeran beat Richard to it. The older man did not look at all pleased as Galeran snatched up the shawl.
"And just as I have made Galeran jealous, you, too, have the same power over Renaud. And I know just the man who will make him sit up and take notice." She nodded toward Philip. "Go ahead, flirt with him. Even if it is just a tilt of your head. The slightest nod."
"But Renaud will not notice. He has been conversing with those men since he arrived in the hall." Aleysia sat back in her seat, took a sip of wine, and looked in Philips direction. To her dismay the younger man did not even glance her way, but it seemed his friend next to him had noticed her staring, for he nudged Philip, who in turn looked at Aleysia. With a wide grin, the young Frenchman lifted his goblet in mock toast. She did the same, took a drink of her wine, all the while keeping eye contact with the young man.
Elena leaned forward and whispered, "Excellent. Renaud is positively furious. Now be discreet, and every once in a while look at Philip while you eat. No lingering stares, but rather quick peeks. Mayhap flash a smile and then look away. Flirt a little."
Aleysia grinned at Philip again, and the young man smiled, and then added a wink.
At her side Elena laughed under her breath. "My brother is coming out of his skin."
Cheeks blazing, Aleysia stole a glance at Renaud. His eyes were narrowed as he watched her intently.
"Now lift your glass to your lips, take a sip, and watch Philip over the rim. After you set the wine down, lick your lips and then look away."
She did exactly as Elena said, though not quite as delicately. But the move was effective: Renaud was already walking toward her.
Elena covered her laughter with a false cough as her brother exchanged seats with the person directly to Aleysia's left.
"My lord," Aleysia said with a curt nod.
"Aleysia." His voice was harsh.
"Do you not care for the venison, my lord? You barely touched your plate."
"I am shocked you noticed." Again his tone was clipped and curt.
Aleysia wondered if perhaps making him jealous was unwise. After all, didn't she want to gain his trust? "I am not very hungry," she said, managing a bite of venison.
He watched her as she chewed, his gaze on her lips. "And why are you not hungry, my lady?"
She wiped her fingers on a cloth. "Because my brother is leaving me on the morrow, which saddens me greatly."
"You do not appear sad to me."
"Perhaps I hide it well."
"You cannot be in too much pain if you are flirting with a mere stranger."
So he had indeed noticed Philip. "Stranger? Whomever do you mean, my lord?"
Renaud's jaw clenched. "I saw the exchange between you and Philip."
"I was not flirting, but merely thanking him for the flower, my lord. Plus, he is not a stranger, but a friend."
"Do not encourage the boy, Aleysia."
She took a sip of wine, enjoying the warmth as it slid down her throat. Setting the goblet down, she asked, "Why?"
He shook his head as though confounded by the question. "You are my woman, and I will not have you flirting with every man that crosses your path. 'Tis not right to promote a liaison, especially in the company of your lover."
Hearing the word
lover
from his lips made her insides burn. Such an intimate word—one that conjured up one wicked image after another.