19

 

Two days passed before Alex made his excuses to William. They set out for Ashdown early on the third day. After the cloying conditions of London, the wooded roads invigorated Isabel. She breathed deeply, and instead of smoke and too many bodies, only smelled horse and fresh air.

They were finally going home.

As far as she was concerned, they had already wasted precious time in London, when it could have been better spent acquainting her people with Alex as their new overlord. Although no longer upset over Alex’s deception, she still regretted the fact she had not been able to inform her people of the match and spare them the worry.

She stretched out her neck, surprised by the exhaustion still clinging to her. Everything she feared had come to pass. She was married, and, although the man in question was Alex, she still felt he was in many ways a stranger to her. Would he change overnight and turn into the brutish soldier of fortune she had been convinced she could not escape? Alex rode ahead, in conversation with Jerome and Captain Thomas. His laughter floated back to her and dispelled the chill in the air. She did not think so. Alex was kind and noble in his treatment of her, and she could not stop her cheeks from warming when she thought of the few moments they spent alone.

During their final days in London, he had been too busy to fully enjoy their marital bed. He had been up before she woke, only to return late in the evening from all the meetings he had to attend. They found time for only one more coupling beyond the first, but the ecstasy she had felt in his arms went beyond all her expectations. Words such as burden or duty she had heard from other women over the years were not accurate descriptions at all. She was learning his body, what made him smile, and coming to enjoy his company. Indeed, she was almost happy, but that seemed dishonest to acknowledge since too many men had died to precipitate such a future for her.

Before they left London, Isabel and Captain Thomas had made a second attempt to locate more of her father’s men and reports of Julien, but to no avail. She forced back the disappointment with the knowledge the best thing she could do now was remember her brother and her father’s men as they had lived.

When Alex rejoined her, he seemed to sense her preoccupation, but he did not press her. They rode in a comfortable sort of silence for much of the day. As the afternoon hours wore on, it became clear they would not reach a public house before nightfall, having already passed suitable stopping points earlier in the day. They made camp in a clearing well off the main road. Isabel dismounted, eager to stretch her legs. Some of the men were charged with setting up sleeping tents, while the others started a fire. It was not long before the group gathered around the fire to enjoy a hearty stew Averill had prepared, thanks to William’s stores from London.

After the meal, when the men started to pass around a wineskin, Isabel thought it best to retire. Brandishing a small oil lamp, she entered the tent designated for her and Alex. Barely five paces in length, it was still much larger than the others. She ducked to keep her head from brushing the ceiling. Only her saddlebags and a few blankets and furs for bedding adorned the tent. The sparse accommodations would have to serve her for this one night, and in a few days she would be back in Ashdown.

She began to undress but stopped when she heard the whisper of canvas as Alex entered the tent behind her. He stole his arm around her waist and anchored her to his front. His warm breath teased the back of her neck.

Isabel froze. “Alex…” She was dirty and tired, and as much as she had come to enjoy their time together, she was in no mood to encourage his caresses.

He trailed kisses down the side of her neck. She could not deny the shiver his mouth provoked but could not let their passion continue when the men and their tents were within earshot.

Isabel tried to pull away, but he held her tight, his hard length pressed into her buttocks. She cursed her corresponding quickening and found herself leaning into him as he cupped her breast and teased the already alert nipple.

“Tell me you are not enjoying this, my lady,” Alex whispered into her ear.

She ignored him and the way her body clamored for more. “The men are nearby. They will hear.”

He laughed softly. “Worry not. They will drink themselves to sleep.”

“Alex…” The note of warning was buried in her sigh as he sought out her sex, his touch searing her through her clothes.

Once more she tried to shake him away, but he clutched her closely. “Do that again, and I cannot be held responsible for my actions,” he growled as he pressed himself into her and made her aware of his extreme arousal.

“Your actions are reprehensible,” she said, almost breathless, hoping her words would subdue their growing passion.

“Because I cannot keep myself from touching my wife?” He loosened his hold and spun her around to face him. His hands bit into her shoulders.

“Yes.”

His nostrils flared. “You want this too.” He trailed his hands down her arms and brought them to rest on her waist. “We have not had the time to celebrate properly.”

“I… It matters not what I want, only what we should do,” she stammered, even as her body throbbed in anticipation.

“We should enjoy the chance to be alone together.”

“I will not be humiliated in front of your men.”

“Do not trouble yourself over them,” he told her, not unkindly. He moved his leg between hers. She stifled a gasp as she fell against him and gripped the front of his tunic for support as his thigh roughly caressed the entrance to her femininity. “There is only one man you should attend to.”

The hoarseness of his voice thrummed through her body. She arched against him. Her soft moan was her undoing. Alex must have heard it, known she had been momentarily convinced, and pressed his advantage. He latched onto the bodice of her gown and yanked down, ripping the fabric. He gathered her exposed breasts in his mouth, his demanding suckling only a few degrees away from causing pain. Her whimpers of pleasure were strangled by sudden frustration she had given in. She struggled to pry herself out of his arms.

Her foot connected with his shin. In that instant, she successfully extricated herself from his arms and unsheathed her seax from her hip. Her mock resistance swiftly became real, surprising Isabel as much as Alex.

She could only gaze uncomprehendingly at the blade in her hand.

“Always the warrior,” he said between ragged breaths. “You know I would never hurt you.”

She nodded in agreement, but did not change her defensive posture. “I know… I just…” She did not know what to say, even as everything in her cried out for his attention. The desire reflected on his face stole her breath. She was just as excited as he was.

“I did not think you could make me want you more.”

She trembled at his words but forced herself to stay calm. Heedless of her shredded gown, she eyed him, ready for any sudden movements. Out of instinct, she had set events into motion when she had drawn her seax. Alex would not allow her to have the upper hand for long. How could she give in, when it was her actions that had brought them to this point?

When Alex lunged to disarm her, she anticipated his every move. Her body was finely attuned to all things Alex. She managed to slip away but was more aware of the way his tunic skimmed against her or the heat of his body, than the strategy she needed to use to successfully evade him.

Was winning the objective? Alex came at her again. This time he gently ensnared her in his arms before they fell against the edge of the tent. He gripped her knife hand. He did not force her to drop it. Instead he just held her, and they stood only inches away from each other, both out of breath from the exertion. She smarted in unrequited need. As she watched him, her surroundings came into sharp relief. His male scent called to her, and she wanted to answer.

She wanted her husband.

The seax slipped from her fingers and fell to the ground. Alex, sensing her surrender, brutally crushed her into his arms. She dug her fingers into his hair and brought his bruising mouth down on hers. Together, they sank to the ground. He held her tightly against him as she straddled his hips. He dragged her skirts up and out of the way, the fabric no match for his insistent hands. As he claimed her breasts again with his mouth, Alex untied his chausses and prepared himself to enter her. It was only once Alex plunged into her that she realized what he had done. She stilled, anchored over him, unsure what to do.

Alex’s face was tight with need as he clamped onto her hips, directing her. She shuddered as the friction of their movements cascaded throughout her. Her hips bucked of their own volition, and he gasped in pleasure.

They came quickly with shattering intensity, the rhythm of their bodies too much to bear. All of Isabel’s strength vanished. She slumped against him as he emptied the last of his seed within her.

He held her possessively as their breathing finally returned to normal. She waited for him to berate her for her behavior, but there was only tenderness. He caught her watching him, and rolled onto his side, taking her with him so they were still face-to-face.

“What changed your mind?”

Isabel grimaced and wiped off her forehead with the back of her hand. “I could not fight you. The wanting was stronger.”

“I am glad for that. Anger, or other strong emotions, often kindles desire.” He played with a lock of her hair in an absent-minded manner. “I have a hard time being patient when it comes to you.”

“Why?” She had meant the question to be light-hearted but it belied the insecurity she felt when it came to their relationship.

“Why? Because you can heat my blood without even trying. One smile from you and I am lost. And you feel it too, despite how you protest.”

“I cannot help it.”

“I know.” He cupped her chin, forcing her to look him in the eyes. “You are a wild creature, but you are mine. And I will tame you.”

For once, she did not take offense at the words. “I worried you would beat me for disobeying.”

“Isabel, I will never lay a hand on you.” He produced her seax and handed it to her. He watched her slip it back into its sheath. “I have more successful and pleasurable methods for dealing with you,” he said with a smirk.

“I am still learning,” she said softly.

“So am I.” He kissed her, his lips gentle and sure. He finally pulled away with a look of regret. “I shall sit with the men for a little longer. I will join you soon, chérie.”

Isabel nodded and barely stirred as Alex stood and covered her with one of the furs. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and was gone.

* * * *

“I thought you already went to sleep,” Hugh greeted Alex as he joined the rest of the men sitting around the fire. “Or did you find the bed too cold for your liking?”

A few of the men sniggered, but Alex ignored them and the insinuation. He took a long swig from the wineskin, which had been passed his way as soon as he had taken a seat. “My bed is very warm. I just thought I would take pity on you poor louts.”

“We are honored by your company, my lord,” Jerome said with a laugh.

“None of that. I am no lord until we reach Ashdown.” He took another sip of wine and passed it along. The wine was of poor quality, but it warmed the body against the night’s chill. Alex looked around. “Whither Captain Thomas?”

“He has already retired.”

Concentrating on the fire’s undulating flames, he nodded then let himself relax. The men’s voices swirled around him, companionable and comforting. His time with Isabel left him unsettled. What began as vigorous seduction had quickly turned into a battle of wills, and Alex was still unsure who won. When she drew her seax out of habit, his need for her had grown tenfold, and he had struggled to control the manly pride demanding he take her right then. Isabel had given in, allowed Alex’s passion to consume her. However, he had been at the mercy of his desire for her from the very beginning. Her defiance, instead of repelling him, only intensified his arousal to the point where he knew of nothing except her.

He had never known such intimacy as when he held her in his arms as they had lain there, spent from their lovemaking. She had consented to marry him, but until he experienced her complete surrender tonight, had not realized she felt the pull between them as acutely as he.

For the past few days, he had wrestled with Isabel’s agreement to marry him. Had she come to care for him—the real Alex—or had she only chosen him because he represented a means to an end, a lesser of two evils, someone who was familiar versus some unknown? Regardless of the reasons for her choice, Alex was certain there was more between them than just mere compatibility.

“Don’t mind him. He’s been impossible since we left London,” Hugh said.

“Now, now, he’s not even been married for a week,” Alex heard Jerome say in return.

Lost in thought, he looked up at his men to find their eyes on him. “What?” Laughter met his ears. Clearly he must have not heard a question directed at him.

With a grin, Jerome pointed at him. “I believe one of the men wanted to know if we would be leaving at first light tomorrow.”

Alex nodded. “Yes, I am eager to return. I know Isabel is concerned for her people. And I would hate to have the Welsh attack again while we are away.”

“Then it is decided,” Hugh said.

Alex looked at men gathered around the fire, at the faces of those who had decided to throw their lot with his. He realized how lucky he was that his men, who had already demonstrated their talent, entrusted their futures to him. It comforted him to know he would not have to completely start anew once he reached Ashdown.

The conversation continued to ebb and flow around him as his men speculated on how things would be once they reached the Dumont castle.

“It will be good to finally have some peace,” Jerome said.

“But the fighting isn’t over. There is too much bad blood between us,” a younger soldier said.

“Bah,” Hugh grunted. “The accursed English don’t know when to leave off.”

“They still haven’t caught the rebels that have caused so much grief,” another man reminded the group.

“I heard from a Breton in London rebels attacked a contingent of men sent to Oxford to keep the locals from uprising. The men were beaten and left for dead. And the villagers aren’t telling who their benefactors were,” Jerome said.

Alex remembered seeing the town on a map somewhere. “How far away is Oxford from here?” he interrupted.

Jerome scratched his head. “About a two-day ride. To the southwest.”

Alex nodded. “We should be cautious.”

“Especially after what Captain Radolf told us in Aylesbury,” Hugh said.

One of the men scoffed. “Those English whelps would be fools to set upon us.”

“Here’s to that,” said another, and the wineskin was passed around once more.

Alex smiled tolerantly at their boasts. It was needed for morale, but he had had enough of their antics and excused himself. He picked his way to the tent he shared with Isabel, eager to lie next to her warm, welcoming body. He thrust aside the canvas, and froze.

Isabel and her saddlebags were nowhere to be found.

Where… He blinked back disbelief. He called her name, peering through the trees in the dark. Perhaps she had gotten lost after leaving camp to relieve herself. His shouts brought his men to his side. Quickly, they began canvassing the forest around them.

At some point Hugh took him aside to keep him from barking out any more frantic orders. “The men have been searching for some time now, and there is still no trace of her. Are you so certain she wants to be found?”

“What do you mean?”

“It was common knowledge your bride was not the most eager. I don’t think the men would be surprised if she has deceived you.”

Hand near his sword’s hilt, he took a step toward Hugh. “Isabel has not run away. I cannot believe you would even entertain such a notion.”

Captain Thomas, now awake, joined them. “All the horses are accounted for.”

Hugh ignored the old man and matched Alex’s aggressive tone. “You have been quarreling with that woman since we first arrived in Ashdown. Why, even tonight you were at it again. We could hear your heated words as we sat by the fire.”

Alex’s mouth curled bitterly in remembrance. “That was no fight, I promise you.”

“She has blinded you from everything. She is no better than the rest of the English. She will—”

“For God’s sake, man,” Captain Thomas interrupted, “she did not take her horse!” He did not need to say Isabel would never willingly travel anywhere without her mount.

The fact was painfully obvious, but Hugh was too impassioned to moderate his criticism. “Only a fool would trust that wench after her lies about her father!”

“Enough. There is no reason to—” Captain Thomas tried to say as Alex glared at Hugh.

“Sir, sir!” A breathless man-at-arms ran over, unknowingly breaking the growing tension between the men. “Jerome found the beginnings of a trail. It looks like another horse has been this way recently, but it is too dark to follow the trail now. We must wait until daybreak.”

Alex glared at Hugh. 

“That means nothing,” Hugh replied. “She could have planned—”

Captain Thomas spoke up, trying to direct the conversation. “Alex, that is only a few hours from now. They will not be able to get very far.”

Alex returned his attention to the man-at-arms. “Very well. See to it we are ready to go at first light.”

Hugh shook his head as he watched the man go. “Alex…”

“Not now.”

“But—”

“God’s teeth, Hugh! Leave off.” Alex stalked away, trying to make sense of what happened. With Isabel’s scent still pervading his skin and clothes, with the image of her making love to him still firmly entrenched in his mind, he could not believe she left him willingly. He had left her sated and well-loved. She was not in any condition to vanish so completely.

Had some ruffian stumbled upon her as she slumbered and run off with her? Not likely. The presence of Alex’s men would dissuade even the most daring. Isabel must have been targeted for some reason. It was no secret to anyone aware of her circumstances, she would be returning this way to Ashdown once their business in London was concluded.

Isabel had never denied her Norman or English ancestry. It was possible some disgruntled Englishman wanted to punish her for being so quickly welcomed by William and his men. Alex thought back to the curses and oaths hurled at Isabel by her people as they had walked the streets of London. So much hatred and distrust plagued the land.

He recalled Hugh’s words and all the heated arguments he had shared with Isabel since he had met her. On more than one occasion, she had made it clear she did not trust him or respect his authority. And he knew how upset she was once she learned about their impending marriage. At the time, he thought it was because he had misled her, not that she was actually unhappy at the prospect of being with him. What if she had truly been opposed to him? What if she had devised a means to earn his and William’s trust and then found a way to secure her freedom? Isabel had the skills and determination to put such a daring plan into place. His chest tightened at the thought she would willingly deceive him after all they had shared.

Then he remembered the soft look on her face after their last coupling. That made it easier to push away such doubts. Instead, his unease for her welfare grew. Alex hated waiting, but it was foolish to try to track her while it was still dark. The risk of making a mistake was too high to warrant it.

And Alex would not tolerate mistakes. Not when it came to Isabel.

* * * *

The right side of her body was numb. Cold, too. That was why she hated sleeping on the ground. Isabel shifted and suddenly all the sewing needles in the land were pricking her. She grunted. Past time to get up.

As the stinging pain receded, she cracked open her eyes. Sunlight blinded her. Had Alex ordered the men to take down the tent while she still slept? She smiled, basking in the warm sun on her face. It was sweet of him, but unnecessary. She was made of sterner stuff.

She opened her eyes again, this time better prepared for the rush of light as she sat up. She blinked, and then blinked again as a dull ache throbbed in her temples. Where…

The clearing was silent except for the breeze rattling against the bare tree branches that stretched to the sky. A sick feeling lodged in her stomach. No camp. No tent. No Alex.

He had left her. Left her behind to fend for herself. She had been such a fool. After everything they had shared… Why?

She bowed her head as tears blurred her vision. Then she saw the ropes loosely linking her wrists and ankles—just enough mobility she had not felt the restraints until now. Her seax, which she had strapped to her waist after her tussle with Alex, was gone. Belatedly she thought of what she was wearing. Alex had been none too gentle on her riding dress, and she had drifted into sleep without a thought to modesty. Now, though, she was clothed in her traveling cloak, which sheltered her against the cold air. A blessing, given her state of dishabille.

Her head shot up, and she reevaluated the clearing. Her gaze landed on an unfamiliar horse, stocky and piebald, tied to one of the trees behind her. Not the mount of a man of consequence. What was going on?

A twig snapped underfoot. Alone no longer. Her heartbeat thudded in her chest. Should she pretend to sleep or confront her captor? Before she could decide, booted feet tramped closer.

“Here, you. Thought you’d still be asleep.”

Isabel twisted and spied a man entering the clearing. Just as his mount confirmed, he was a peasant or craftsman at best. The man looked strong and alert, with a short, sturdy blade fastened to his belt. Was it just him or were there others hidden in the trees?

She forced air in and out of her mouth. “What is going on? What have you done to me?”

“You stay quiet like a good lass.” He turned to his horse and rummaged through the saddlebags. The jangle of jostled supplies filled the clearing.

“You cannot treat me thus! Untie me at once!”

Despite the ropes, she struggled to her feet. Dizzy, her head throbbed with each beat of her heart. What was wrong with her?

The man finally troubled himself to come over. “Here now, stop that. I’m supposed to bring you back in one piece.”

His touch was harsh but impersonal as he made sure the ropes were still secure. She tried to pull away but her motions were slow and clumsy. Handling her as easily as if she were a child, he forced her to the ground with an ease that made her gut lurch. He sank to his haunches next to her and produced a leather pouch held closed by a length of twine.

Pleas would not affect him or promises interest him. Resignation shrouded his features. This was a man who had seen too many battles, too many betrayals. He would not be swayed. Whatever he had been hired to do to her, he would see it through to the end.

He placed a kerchief around his face, protecting his nose and mouth, and opened the leather bag.

“How dare you!” Her voice held the imperious quality she used with her servants.

For a heart-stopping moment, he stilled. Then he acted as if he had to remind himself what he was supposed to do. Pity glimmered in his brown eyes briefly, but then he shook his head as if to clear it and brought closer the bag. It likely contained a concoction of herbs that would drug her into oblivion. Again. The only explanation for her sluggish reactions.

“If you know who I am, you know I will kill you for this injustice,” Isabel said quietly. 

He placed a firm hand on her mouth, preventing her ability to avoid inhaling the aromatics.

The air suddenly became oppressive, and she could feel herself slipping. Buzzing filled her head, as though she stood next to a beehive in high summer. Colors leached together, culminating in darkness. Her mind became heavy and full of slumber. 

Before she gave into the inevitable, she heard the man speak again. “He told me you might say something like that.”