urke’s kiss awakened a dragon within Alys that she would have preferred to leave slumbering until her dying day.urke’s kiss awakened a dragon within Alys that she would have preferred to leave slumbering until her dying day.
Indeed, his kiss was everything she remembered and more. Burke was gentle, as always he had been, his touch both strong and tender. He coaxed her response, the cursed knave, and made her want him with an unruly desire. That unwelcome desire gave credence to Aunt’s tales of Alys’s legacy from her mother, tales Alys would have liked to prove false.
To Alys’s embarrassment, ’twas Burke who broke their embrace, Burke who lifted his head and stared into her eyes. “I beg your pardon for being so bold,” he said softly, his thumb tracing a line along her rib. “But I could resist you no longer.” He smiled warmly down at her. “Or perhaps I had to assure myself that the sweet maiden of my dreams yet existed.”
As ever, his compliment recalled Alys to her senses.
“Rogue!” She swatted Burke’s shoulder and bounded from the side of the tub, retreating a good half-dozen steps before she halted.
Oh, Alys would not think of how many women had heard the same fine words fall from this man’s lips, she would not think of the ranks of willing maidens who had warmed his bed! And she would not join those women’s numbers, however convenient this knight might consider that possibility to be.
Alys wrung out her kirtle and glared at the man responsible for her turmoil. “You are overly confident in your charms!”
Again that beguiling smile lurked on Burke’s lips, and his eyes glowed as he surveyed her. “Truly, Alys, I have wanted another taste of your lips every day and night of these three years.”
’Twas precisely the wrong lie to make, if Burke intended to placate her. “Aye?” Alys challenged. “Then ’tis most odd you never troubled to travel this way again!”
Burke frowned. “I do not understand.”
“Nay! Nor did I!” she snapped. “You lied to me! You told me fine tales and, in the end, they meant naught at all! How could you simply leave?” She turned abruptly away, not wanting the knight to see the tears that had risen in her eyes.
“Alys, there must be some mistake,” Burke insisted, the determination in his voice making her yearn to believe him once again. Oh, she was weak! “I came back—”
“There is no mistake!” Alys interrupted. She whirled to face him, letting her words fall in haste. “You departed immediately after we were caught in the stables and never turned back this way all these three years.”
Burke shook his head like a great bear. “Alys, you have misjudged me and you must let me explain.”
“Save your pretty words,” Alys retorted, “for your deeds tell all that needs to be told.”
Burke scowled and flung out his hands, his composure slipping once more. “Aye! That they do!”
“Aye!” Alys shouted at him. “And what were those deeds?”
“What indeed?” Burke roared in his turn. “I invite you to examine them!”
“You took advantage of my innocence, then abandoned me, compromised, within my guardian’s household!”
“I did no such thing!” Burke shouted, then bounded to his feet. “I offered for your hand.”
“Nay, for you declined even to speak to me!”
Alys gasped that he should cling to this wild tale. “Nay, Burke, you made no such offer! You left immediately, I was told without even a backward glance!”
Burke jabbed his finger through the air. “And you never troubled to see the truth yourself! Ye gods, Alys, did it not mean enough to you to be certain?”
“Enough to me? I meant naught to you beyond the satisfaction of your lust.”
“My lust is of no import in this!”
“Nay?” Alys pointed to the knight’s erection. “But it attends nonetheless!” And with that, she scooped up the bucket of cold water at her feet and cast its contents directly over the knight.
Burke’s mouth dropped open in shock, and he blanched.
And then he bellowed like an enraged bull.
“That is ENOUGH!” he thundered, and lunged for Alys.
Alys did not wait to see what Burke would do.
She ran.
She flung back the bolt, ripped open the door, then fled toward the many servants crowding the portal to the kitchen as the door slammed closed behind her.
Their eyes were round with curiosity and ’twas clear that some of the argument—or at least its volume—had been overheard. Edana stood with a bucket of creamy fresh milk, one hand covering her open mouth, her eyes wide.
“ALYS!”
Alys was halfway down the corridor when Burke kicked the bathing chamber door open. It crashed back against the wall and Alys could not help but look. Burke’s eyes flashed, his jaw was set, and Alys could not keep her unruly gaze from slipping lower.
It seemed the cold water had had little effect. Her gaze fell to the muscled strength of his legs, then over the broad expanse of his chest, and Alys caught her breath.
God in heaven, but the man was alluring! Alys looked up in time to see Burke realize that he not only had an audience but that he was completely nude.
The anger faded immediately from his features and he rubbed his brow, a rueful smile curving his lips. Though he had bellowed fit to shake the foundations of the keep, his fury was gone as swiftly as the wind.
’Twas only now that Alys realized she had never seen Burke angered before. He was always the heart and soul of diplomacy, his manners impeccable, his even temper unassailable.
Yet she had made him yell.
Indeed, he had prompted her to shout back as she never did. Alys wondered at that, even as she felt a peculiar tingle of pleasure.
If naught else, she had his attention.
“Ye gods, Alys,” Burke murmured intimately. “You do have a way of compelling me to forget myself.”
Alys blushed scarlet to hear so close an echo of her own thoughts fall from this charming knave’s lips. She had to fight her temptation to return his smile.
Burke—curse his perceptiveness!—clearly noted that she was not completely successful in doing that. Their gazes locked and held for a breathless moment, then the knight scooped up his discarded clothing. He paused on his return to the bathing chamber, his chemise held before himself.
“I would ask one favor of you, my lady fair,” he said softly, continuing without granting Alys the chance to respond. “I have listened to your charges against me, have I not?”
“Aye,” Alys conceded warily.
“Then ’tis only fitting you reciprocate and grant me the opportunity to defend myself.” Burke lifted one brow, as if he sensed her desire to refuse him. “ ’Twould only be fair.”
What was not fair was the way Alys’s heart began to pound at the prospect of spending time with this knight once more. She knew full well that she could not trust herself to resist any appeal he made, particularly if he punctuated his sweet tales with even sweeter kisses.
’Twas doubly unfair that his request was most reasonable.
Well aware of the servants clustered behind her, all avidly attending every word, Alys tossed her braid over her shoulder and struggled to look unaffected by Burke’s appeal. “I have labor to perform,” she declared archly, “and no time to indulge the whim of a visiting knight.”
“A pox on your labor!” Burke retorted. “You must at least hear out my defense. You have but to name the place and I shall be there.” His eyes narrowed. “Alys, I swear it to you.”
His very intensity nearly made Alys agree, but she caught her words in time. “You are quick to make pledges this day,” she charged instead.
And Burke smiled that slow sensuous smile, dissolving Alys’s resistance yet further. “Yet I would willingly pledge more to share the honor of your company.” He stepped forward, his charm resolutely in place despite his lack of garb. “Meet me, Alys,” he requested earnestly. “Meet me and let there be truth between us.”
Oh, Alys was tempted, but she forced herself to consider the facts. The truth simply could not show Burke to advantage. For if he had offered for her hand, why had she not known of it? Her aunt certainly would have welcomed an opportunity to be rid of her.
And similarly, Burke’s tale of returning here could not be credited. Alys had never left Kiltorren in all her days; if Burke had ever ridden through those gates again, she scarcely could have missed that fact. How would he explain that to his own advantage, without concocting a lie?
Curse her curiosity! She would grant him naught!
“I cannot linger and listen to your tales when there is much to be done,” she said haughtily, and turned to leave.
“Alys!” Burke cried, and she could not help but glance over her shoulder. “Have no doubt, my lady,” he insisted, his voice so low that Alys had to strain to hear the words. “We shall speak of this again. All is far from resolved between us.”
Alys lifted her chin, emboldened by the distance between them. “Nay, sir, ’tis not. Your apology is long overdue.”
“Fear not, Alys, you shall have more than your due of me.” Burke’s grin flashed, his eyes darkening with intent. “I swear it to you, damsel of mine.” Then he ducked back into the chamber, leaving Alys gasping.
She was not his damsel!
Nor would she ever be!
Alys willed her blush to fade as she drew near the crowd outside the kitchen.
Edana giggled. “Oh, Alys, to be the damsel of such a man!” She sighed and her cheeks pinkened with what must be wicked thoughts. She set down her bucket with a sigh of satisfaction. “How could you deny him anything!”
But before Alys could respond, her aunt’s cry carried from above.
“Alys? ALYS? Do not imagine that I did not hear our guest!” The others shrank away from Alys, dread lighting their eyes. At the echo of advancing footfalls, the entire retinue in the corridor suddenly disappeared. “What have you done to anger that knight?”
Alys’s heart sank to her toes and her mouth went dry. Indeed, Burke had made her forget herself in more ways than one.
Deirdre was not pleased and she did not care who knew it. She stormed down the corridor betwixt kitchen and bathing chamber, not surprised to find her niece awaiting her. The girl held herself proudly, but her eyes betrayed her fear.
Alys should be afraid, after what she had done.
Oh, it had been years since Deirdre struck this one, and ’twas not for lack of cause that she had abandoned her willow switch. Yet again Deirdre considered that what had happened that last time had been but a coincidence, not an ill omen, and that ’twas time she lifted the switch again.
She was sorely tempted to fetch it now, for this one had a talent for making Deirdre’s most treasured plans go awry.
Alys backed into the wall but did not look apologetic in the least. “You called me?”
The cheek of the child was annoying beyond all. Deirdre strolled closer, still deciding how she would punish Alys. The girl had to learn that she was not in command of her own fate—and she certainly could not be permitted to mar the most promising opportunity to ride through Kiltorren’s gates in years.
“I heard our guest,” Deirdre said tightly. “He seemed most displeased. Did you fail to grant him satisfaction, Alys?” She deliberately let her voice drop. “Have you defied me again!”
Alys’s rebellious manner only intensified, the flash in the girl’s eyes doing little to improve Deirdre’s mood. “I did not bed him and I will not bed him, regardless of what you and he think of the matter!”
“Fool!” Deirdre felt her lips thin. “Your impertinence could send him away! Do not imagine that I will suffer the loss of a bridegroom for Malvina, regardless of the price!”
“Malvina is welcome to Burke de Montvieux,” Alys retorted.
Deirdre halted her advance to consider her ward, so surprised was she by this claim. She had always thought that Alys had an affection for this knight—no less than he had one for her.
“I see no reason why my chastity should be sacrificed in pursuit of Malvina’s match,” Alys declared. “Burke and Malvina are welcome to each other—the matter has naught to do with me.”
Except that an Alys compromised was an Alys unfit for nuptials for all time, a most tactically appealing proposition. Deirdre had suspected that a full sampling of Alys’s charms might satisfy the knight’s unwelcome interest in her ward.
But now Alys seemed to have changed her mind about their guest.
The unlikely sound of a man’s whistling burst into the corridor in that moment. It carried quite distinctly from the bathing chamber. Deirdre’s fury eased, for it seemed that all could not be completely lost if a man were cheerful enough to whistle.
Indeed, Burke de Montvieux could not be preparing to leave Kiltorren in displeasure. Deirdre studied her niece, considering that she might have been too quick to see two birds dead of one stone.
Perhaps the situation could yet be saved.
“If you will not satisfy Burke’s lust,” Deirdre declared quietly, “then you must never be found in his company. I will not have three virgins contesting for the man’s attentions.”
“I have no desire of Burke’s attention!” Alys straightened with a nearly audible snap. “And I have already decided to avoid this visiting knight.”
“Indeed?”
“Indeed.” The girl’s resolve could not be doubted.
Deirdre could not quell her smile. In this case, it seemed that absence had not made the heart grow fonder. Burke clearly had spurned Alys, and the way the girl took insult could be readily turned to advantage. Aye, Malvina would easily make a conquest of this man if Alys kept out of sight.
Deirdre fixed Alys with a glare and named her condition. “You will not be found in the company of this knight as long as he lingers at Kiltorren.”
“I do not intend to seek him out,” Alys replied haughtily. “Though I can hardly answer for whatever he might do.”
“If he seeks you out, than you will leave his side,” Deirdre insisted. “You will not share his company, under any terms.”
Alys’s chin lifted. “I have no desire to share his company.”
’Twas not reassuring the way the girl’s cheeks pinkened at this assertion, and Deirdre decided to leave naught to chance.
“You have defied my explicit order and you must pay a price,” she informed her ward. “You shall labor all this night if necessary, ensuring every floor in this hall is spotless. When you are done, you will scrub the fireplaces until the stone looks newly fitted. And then you will cut and carry enough strewing herbs that every chamber smells of springtime.”
’Twas an enormous task and Deirdre paused for a moment to watch her niece comprehend its scope. The girl’s shoulders sagged minutely, then squared once more.
Oh, she would pay good coin to see this one surrender in defeat.
“Defiance is not welcome here, Alys, nor is it an attractive attribute in a young woman.” Deirdre snarled. “Remember that your presence is tolerated in this household in these less than prosperous times only out of my keen sense of family duty. Am I understood?”
Alys’s lips tightened. “Clearly.”
“Then you had best be about your labor,” Deirdre concluded as she pivoted to leave, “if you mean to sleep at all this night.”
Burke strolled into the great hall, well prepared to present his defense to Alys. She could not avoid him at the board, that much was certain. His gaze danced over the dais and he was disappointed, not by the paucity of the feast spread there but by the absence of a certain woman.
Malvina squealed and darted to his side, pressing herself against him in a bold manner and gazing up at him in admiration. “Oh, Burke, you look so fine this evening! Might I call you Burke? It seems so formal to use any other address.” She batted her eyes, then dropped her voice low. “Or would it be forward of me to call you my lord?”
“Most forward,” Burke retorted. “And most inappropriate. I should think your mother would have much to say about such familiarity upon our short acquaintance.”
“Of course, of course!” Deirdre enthused, her smile giving Burke the sense that she would gobble him up alive, granted half the chance. “We must recall our manners, girls!” She pinched Brigid and that girl stepped forward, obviously intending to curtsey but falling over her full kirtle instead
Burke gallantly caught her hands. Brigid straightened, looked at her hands upon his with terror, then pulled them away. She flushed crimson and stared at her toes.
“Did you injure yourself?” he asked. The girl said naught, though Burke waited politely. Brigid looked to her mother, whose lips thinned.
“Answer the man, child!”
Brigid swallowed and turned an appealing gaze on Burke. He smiled slightly, wanting only to reassure her. Her color rose and he shortly discerned the difficulty.
“N-n-n-nay.” Brigid spit out the word finally, then squeezed her eyes shut in mortification and fled for the board.
Malvina grinned at her sister’s departure, then sidled closer to Burke, her breast rubbing against his arm. Deirdre took note of Malvina’s familiarity but did not chide her daughter. Cedric simply beamed.
They were without doubt a most curious family.
“She is an idiot,” Malvina confided, nodding to her sister.
Burke flashed a cold glance downward at such uncharitableness. “She is charming.”
Malvina’s mouth gaped open and she scowled.
That would give her something to think about. Burke extricated himself from Malvina’s clutch and bowed to his host and hostess. “I must thank you again for your hospitality.”
Deirdre’s lips thinned. “And I must apologize for your difficulties in the bathing chamber.”
“I had no difficulties. All was most admirable.”
Deirdre laid a hand on Burke’s arm, leading him to the board. “You are too polite, sir. But in a keep of this modest size, a body cannot help hearing a man who is sorely vexed.”
“I cannot think of what you mean,” Burke commented, wondering how much of his argument with Alys this woman had overheard.
Deirdre laughed lightly. “Oh, you do not fool me, sir! I know that you found my niece most trying.”
“On the contrary,” Burke said smoothly. “I found her companionship most amusing.” He cast a pointed glance over the small group. “Indeed, I had looked forward to enjoying her company this evening. When is she to join us?”
Behind him, Malvina hissed through her teeth. Deirdre inhaled sharply and looked as if she had just taken a sip of sour wine. “She will not be joining us.”
“Whyever not?”
Deirdre’s features sharpened. “ ’Tis not her place in the hall.”
Burke was not prepared to let the matter go so readily as that. “Indeed? Yet you yourself have confessed that she is the only other nobly born inhabitant in Kiltorren.” He arched a brow in response to Deirdre’s sharp glance. “Where I was raised, ’twould only be appropriate that she ate in the hall.”
Deirdre’s lips pinched so tightly that they nigh disappeared. “This is Ireland, sir, and our customs are markedly different from those in a French court.”
“Aye, I can see as much.” Before any could take insult, Burke turned his most charming smile upon his host. He had not donned his finest this night for naught—and he was not a man who readily abandoned his chosen course.
Burke would see Alys this evening.
“Surely ’twould be no trouble to indulge my custom in this?” he suggested. “I would imagine that all would enjoy Alys’s company this night.”
There was an awkward silence that made Burke suddenly fear that ’twas more than maidenly avoidance that kept Alys from the hall. “Is your niece ill?”
“Aye!” Deirdre smiled sunnily, a move obviously intended to cover a lie. “She lies ill with a catarrh.” Malvina grimaced. “Indeed, we must leave her alone, lest one of us contract the illness. Come!” She waved Burke toward the board, Malvina scampering past to take her place. “Let us eat.”
Burke did not move. “I had no idea a catarrh could attack a body so very quickly. Indeed, the lady seemed hale not long ago.”
“Oh, Alys is prey to the slightest illness!” Deirdre laughed. “She is a most fragile creature.”
“Yet it must have taken marked strength for a woman to haul that basket back to the kitchen this afternoon,” Burke felt compelled to observe. “It seemed most heavy for a woman so slender.”
“Oh! Alys lies about her health to avoid joining us,” Malvina added. “And about her burdens as well. She would elicit sympathy from all.”
“Indeed?”
“You must not be insulted!” Cedric declared. “Alys is tempestuous, there can be no doubt about it.”
“Capricious.” Deirdre rolled her eyes. “And unreliable.”
“Vexing.” Cedric winked.
“And quite decidedly lazy,” Malvina concluded with satisfaction. “Why, just this morning, she positively dawdled over hauling the water for my bath.”
Brigid frowned as she eyed her family. “B-b-but Alys is always nice t-t-to me,” she argued. Her eyes were filled with an anguish that told Burke he was being deceived.
“Well, then,” he said with a smile for the younger daughter of the house, “perhaps we two might persuade the lady to join us.”
Brigid flushed again, even as her mother stepped between her and Burke. “That is not necessary,” Deirdre argued with that cold smile. “I would not pamper the girl unnecessarily. She has been summoned to the board and if she chooses not to join us, then that is her choice. She craves attention, as you must have guessed, and I would give her no more than her measure.”
’Twas lies, all lies, and Burke knew it well. Alys cared naught for attention—did she not stand back when her family openly ignored her? Though she might indeed be vexing to him, she was neither capricious nor lazy nor unreliable.
But before he could protest anew, Deirdre fixed him with a sharp glance. “Indeed, sir, I can only marvel at your persistent interest in my niece. I thought you welcomed our hospitality while you reacquainted yourself with our daughters.”
“Alys was most angered earlier,” Burke said, guessing the direction of his hostess’s thoughts. “ ’Tis only chivalrous to assure that I have not given insult to any maiden.”
Deirdre snorted. “You have my assurance that Alys is not insulted, no less that she is scarcely a maiden fit for your attention. The tales I could tell you of her parentage …” She shook her head as if she could not bring herself to utter them, and Burke fought his anger at this injustice.
Deirdre smiled. “But enough of such sordid details. Here you have ridden to Kiltorren for a bride, and the only two eligible candidates await you.”
“Aye, you cannot have already decided to seek your bride elsewhere!” Cedric boomed. He clapped one hand on Burke’s shoulder. “Indeed, my boy, you have scarcely had the chance to note how my daughters have blossomed these past years. Come, come to the board!”
And Burke realized he had little choice in this matter. Deirdre was either too shrewd or too fixed on her own objectives to countenance his overt interest in Alys. If Burke were not to be ousted from Kiltorren before he managed to capture Alys’s hand, he would have to make a good performance of courting Malvina.
’Twas a galling proposition but Burke summoned his best smile. Mercifully, the ends did justify the means.
“I can only accept your compelling assurance, my lady Deirdre.” Burke bowed. “Indeed, I must thank you for setting my concerns at ease, that I might better enjoy your daughters’ graces.”
Malvina and Deirdre smiled of one accord, Brigid flushed yet again, and Cedric urged Burke to take the place between his two daughters. Burke sat down and Malvina promptly laid a hand upon his thigh. Indeed, he jumped at her unexpected familiarity.
“You must tell us,” she urged, her breast pushing against his arm, “of all the bold adventures you have had since leaving our gates. How many tourneys have you won?”
Burke made to move the girl’s hand but caught Deirdre’s hawklike gaze. In the nick of time, he checked his impulse, closing his hand over Malvina’s own and raising it gallantly to his lips.
“Your wish is indeed my command,” he murmured, then set her hand firmly on the board. “I can only hope the tales do not disappoint, for you are surely a maiden of cultivated tastes.” Malvina giggled and eased closer, her leg pressed against the length of his own.
Ye gods, but ’twould be a long evening.
Alys worked as she had never worked before. She scrubbed and she swept and she hauled water until she ached clear to her bones. And then she scrubbed some more. She cleaned ashes from the kitchen hearth and hauled bucket after bucket of soot out of the keep.
She avoided the hall with a vengeance, being certain she did not even glance toward the dais when she crept through the shadows to the stairs. Fortunately the torches were lit only near the dais, and she doubted that any noted her passing. Once in the solar above, she could hear a familiar rumble of masculine laughter carry from below, interspersed with Malvina’s giggles.
It did not sound as if the man were not courting her cousin.
Alys gritted her teeth and cleaned both solar and smaller chambers with a savage thoroughness. Sweat trickled down her back and ashes stained her skin, the shadows of the night fell within the hall, but still she labored.
And still she strained her ears, unable to deny the temptation of listening for a certain knight’s voice. Each time she heard Burke chuckle, she scrubbed harder.
He was clearly enjoying Malvina’s company this night, she thought waspishly, and showing no disappointment in her absence. Not courting Malvina, indeed. The man bent the truth to his own advantage, that much was clear. Alys swore softly and cleaned.
But no matter how hard she toiled, Alys could not drive Burke de Montvieux from her thoughts. Not his touch, not his voice, not his charm, not the gleam in his silver-blue eyes when he so readily granted her his word.
Alys knew ’twas her own weakness for this knight at root. After all, she knew that a man’s touch could lead only to downfall, she knew more than enough about the legacy of being a whore’s bastard daughter, she knew that Burke himself had sorely disappointed her once before and undoubtedly tried to do so again.
Yet when Burke fixed his intent gaze upon her—or worse, touched her—she simply forgot. ’Twas madness to let a man so muddle her thoughts, but even the awareness of that did naught to diminish the power of Burke’s allure.
Nor did it temper her burgeoning curiosity.
For Alys could not keep herself from wondering what tale this man would tell, if given the chance. Was it possible that there was another explanation for Burke’s long-ago departure?
Would he tell a lie, designed to ease between her thighs and no more? Or could there be some angle of the truth that Alys did not know? The possibility that Burke might be innocent of the crimes she laid at his door tormented Alys throughout that night.
And ’twas not only because she prided herself on being fair.
Then the good chance that she was an idealistic fool tormented her yet more. Truly, she had listened too intently to Heloise’s tales all these years!
And she had promised Aunt, after all. Alys returned to the kitchen with her army of buckets, her chin held high when a silence descended on the dais as she passed.
“It seems that Alys makes a marked recovery from her catarrh,” Burke commented dryly. Alys noted that Malvina nearly draped herself across the man’s lap and he did naught to challenge this familiarity.
Did his pride demand that every woman fall at his feet?
Aunt laughed and made up some lie even as Alys gritted her teeth. A catarrh? ’Twas typical of that woman to tell some tall tale to excuse her behavior. Alys set to cleaning the kitchen, half hoping that a certain knight would seek her out before he retired.
But gradually the keep fell silent, and footsteps echoed on the stairs. Alys caught herself listening for a solid male tread, her vigor deserting her when she heard Burke leave the hall for the stairs, not the kitchen.
Oh, she was an addlepated fool!
’Twas only once they were all gone that Alys dragged her buckets into the great hall itself. The room seemed vast and cold now that ’twas deserted and the fire burned down to glowing coals. The floor stretched on for eternity, but Alys dutifully scrubbed as snores and the scampering of mice filled the keep.
She cursed her aunt a few times for good measure, then cursed Burke for tangling her thoughts. She cursed her mother for being so foolish as to submit to a man’s seductive ploys.
If her mother had not succumbed to temptation, then Alys would not have been bastard-born, her mother would not have died of a broken heart, and Alys would not be on her knees, cleaning Kiltorren’s floors.
Then she cursed herself for being so very tempted to repeat that same woeful mistake. The truth was all too clear, with no winsome dreams, or romantic tales, or charming men to cloud Alys’s view.
But what would Burke say if she granted him the chance? Even knowing she should not, Alys was itching to know.
When the dawn’s first fingers crept into the hall, Alys was done with her cleaning. She stood and stretched her back, surveying what she had achieved with no pride of accomplishment. Alys ran a tired hand over her brow.
Heloise oft said that curiosity could lead to the downfall of innocents, and Alys reluctantly acknowledged the truth of that. However wrong ’twas, whatever manner of lies he might offer, she sorely wanted to know what Burke would say in his own defense.
And there was only one way to satisfy her burning curiosity. Alys was going to have to grant the man the hearing he requested. ’Twas a risky proposition, given the pledge she had made to her aunt, but perhaps the deed could be concealed.
First, Alys would cut the strewing herbs and finish this cursed task. If Dame Fortune smiled upon her, Aunt would not rise soon and would be so busy checking Alys’s labor once she did arise—seeking fault, as always—that she would not immediately note Alys’s absence.
Or her defiance.
For this would be the last time Alys would speak with Burke, without doubt. The man was right in this, at least. He had listened to Alys, and ’twas only fair she listen to him.
At least that was the excuse she granted herself to seek him out. Alone in the garden with knife in hand, Alys fervently hoped she could keep her wits about her and hold fast against Burke’s allure.
’Twas not heartening to know that ’twas a slender chance, at best.