he storeroom had seemed like a good idea at the time.he storeroom had seemed like a good idea at the time.
After all, it was the best place to hide away from her family and their newly ensnared guest and still be close to Cook and his helpers. There were sacks of grain stacked around the perimeter, the air was tinged with the scents of peppercorns and cloves locked in the spice box. Overhead there were bundles of herbs dried from last summer—meadowsweet and tansy, dill and chervil—each and every one lending their perfume to the crowded room.
For that was the problem—’twas crowded. ’Twas impossible to share the space with a man of Burke’s height and breadth without touching him in some way.
But there was naught for it. Burke was settling onto a sack of grain and Alys would not protest the intimacy of the place she had chosen. She sat as far from him as she could and spread the napkin deliberately between them. Within it was half a loaf of bread and some cheese.
Burke had a great mug of ale, though Cook had been willing to surrender only one vessel to them. Alys had no doubt the older man was matchmaking, for ’twas clear he favored Burke.
Burke offered her the first sip with a grim gallantry. ’Twould be the next one that would unsettle Alys, the next one that would either give her the taste of Burke mingled with the ale, or prompt his comment when she avoided the place where his lips had rested.
“Will you tell me of Montvieux?”
Burke turned, challenge bright in his eyes. “Will you believe me if I do?”
Alys managed to find a smile. “I shall try.”
“Try.” Burke’s lips tightened and he stared across the room once more. The silence stretched long between them. Alys almost thought he would not speak, but then his voice echoed with low heat in the little room.
“Alys, you think that I do not understand you, you think that we have naught in common, but that is not true. I see in you a shadow of myself, for you are as surely beneath your aunt’s thumb as I was once trapped beneath my father’s. It took me long to decide to cast off his demands and it cost me dear, but I cannot look at you without considering how welcome the change felt once ’twas done.”
Alys did not know what to say, but Burke continued on, apparently not expecting a response.
“I have spent my life, Alys, endeavoring to please my parents.” He studied the contents of the ale mug. “They are people of worldly ambition, their desires tangible and readily identified. They wished me to show skill with a horse. They wished me to become a knight. They wished me to wage war alongside my father. They wished me to win at tourneys. I managed it all, until my father decided whom I should wed.”
He sipped of the ale once more, then offered the mug to Alys. She shook her head and he continued to cradle the pottery in his hands. There was an undercurrent to his words that Alys could not name, but his manner was compelling. Indeed, there was no pretense in his manner—he spoke bluntly, leaving Alys no doubt this was the truth.
“ ’Twas last year,” Burke continued. “My father chose to join Strongbow’s invasion and make a claim within Ireland for no better reason than his own greed. He chose his prey by its wealth and weakness, naught else. Tullymullagh was a fine prize and another piece of property to make his own. I was there for the siege, though I am not proud of what was done there.”
Burke clearly felt deeply about this matter—indeed, Alys could fairly smell his irritation.
“Why not?” she asked.
“The inhabitants had done naught to provoke a war. They simply had the misfortune to live in a keep my father desired to make his own. He was more brutal than necessary, as is his wont, and my squire—a boy of eight who had just come to serve me—died.”
Burke flicked a heated glance to Alys. “I did not know him overwell, I do not pretend that we were close. But ’twas a waste of a life. I daresay his mother was surprised by the vehemence of my missive informing her of his loss.”
“There is a saying of the last straw breaking the steed’s back,” Alys suggested softly.
Burke shrugged and turned back to the mug. “Aye. I had borne enough of my father’s ways. Perhaps I had been obedient too long. At any rate, the loss of the squire and the claiming of Tullymullagh left a sour taste on my tongue.”
Burke pursed his lips and sipped while Alys waited. “So you might imagine my dismay when the king came to consolidate my father’s claim and my father revealed that he intended Tullymullagh to be mine. Mine! This place of misfortune and greed, of early death and unnecessary cruelty. A gift ’twas, in my father’s mind, and all I had to do was wed its princess.”
“Brianna of Tullymullagh,” Alys whispered, remembering Burke’s comment that she had sent him here.
“Aye, Princess Brianna, the Rose of Tullymullagh. All raised a cup to my good fortune.” Burke grimaced. “But I was not prepared to do this thing. I did not know the woman, I did not want her family’s holding. I could not conceive of a way to avoid this duty without confronting my father’s wrath. Fortunately, the lady was no more enamored of having her spouse chosen for her, and demanded the right to select from all three Fitzgavin sons.”
Burke frowned. “My eldest brother, Luc, has never taken any pains to evade our father’s wrath. He simply did not care and I had to consider this. While it never occurred to me to defy our father, it apparently never occurred to Luc to obey him. And Luc seemed to have survived well on his own.”
Burke looked down into the mug and swirled its contents. When he continued, his voice had softened, a tinge of marvel lingering in his tones. “When Luc arrived at Tullymullagh and first saw Brianna, there was a look in his eyes of such wonder that I was reminded of the day I first glimpsed you.”
Alys caught her breath and Burke shot her a crooked smile.
“Aye, Alys, but one glimpse was all it took. I stood in Tullymullagh’s hall and I watched my brother. I thought of you and the way you smile, I heard again the ripple of your laughter and I knew the true reason why I could not wed this woman.”
Alys’s heart was in her mouth. She feared suddenly that Burke would glance at her, that he would see her longing in her eyes as he often did read her thoughts.
But Burke did not. He deliberately set the mug on the floor of the room and leaned back, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the opposite wall. “Then Brianna dispatched the three brothers Fitzgavin upon a quest for her hand.”
“What was the quest?”
“She would wed the one who brought the gift to make her laugh loudest and longest.”
“ ’Tis a curious way to choose a spouse.”
Burke snorted. “So said Luc. He refused to go and won the lady’s heart as well as her hand. He also won my father’s wrath but lived to tell the tale.” His expression turned indulgent. “Luc and Brianna are very happy together. She is with child.”
“What did you bring her?”
Burke shrugged. “It does not matter. My heart was not in the mission and the lady guessed as much. As did my father, and he had much to say of the matter.” His lips tightened and he frowned anew. “He insisted I fetch another gift with haste, he insisted I win Brianna’s hand, but I refused.”
“You declined your sire’s bidding?”
“Aye, and he is not a man who takes well to defiance. He threatened me, and for the first time in all my days, encouraged by Luc’s example, I held my ground. Gavin bellowed and I yelled back. Then I left him standing there, stunned at the change in his obedient son.”
Burke glanced up at Alys, a bright gleam lurking in his eyes that stole her breath away. “I tell you, Alys, ’twas the most satisfying moment of all my days.”
Alys was amazed at his confession. “But your father disinherited you as a result?”
“Aye.” Burke held her gaze, his expression deadly serious. “Because I would have no woman by my side other than you.”
Alys felt her lips part.
“You may believe it, Alys, or not, as you choose. ’Twill change naught.” Burke took a deep draught of ale and seemed disinclined to continue.
Alys could not imagine that anyone would abandon anything for her sake, much less that this man would set aside all he might call his own. Montvieux was a prize, Alys knew it well.
“But what will you do?”
Burke’s lips tightened to a line that was yet more fierce. “I had thought to wed, but you show an unholy resistance to the thought.”
Alys’s heart stopped.
Then it raced anew. Her fingers clenched each other at the conviction in Burke’s tone. “I meant, how will you live?”
Burke seemed untroubled by the uncertainty of his prospects. “I shall return to the tourneys. A few good years and I shall have enough to call my own. You need not worry for me.”
“But men are injured in the tourneys. You could be hurt!”
Burke almost smiled. “I have been hurt before, Alys. A man must be prepared to make a sacrifice for what he desires.” He set the mug aside. “He must even be prepared to face his greatest fear.”
The silence hung between them and Alys wondered what fear a knight like Burke might have. He had spurned a legacy with bold confidence, he faced Aunt with determination, he had battled countless foes effortlessly.
“What could you fear?”
Burke bowed his head. “That I shall lose the only battle that ever was of import to me.” He turned then, and Alys was startled by the bright glitter in his gaze. “That you should refuse me.”
Alys could not fathom that she held the power to make this man feel vulnerable, but his vulnerability caught at her heart as naught else had done.
Still, she had to voice her own doubts.
Honesty seemed to be in the wind this night.
“Burke, I am afraid that you only desire me, that there is no more than that between us. I am afraid that desire will have its due and fade away.”
Sympathy filtered into Burke’s expression but he did not move away. “Ah, Alys, if only I could face your fears for you and show you that they are as naught. You would see, Alys, that what you fear is as substantial as the morning mist.”
He made to withdraw, but Alys impulsively put her hand on his shoulder. She might be uncertain of what lay ahead, but in this moment, she did not want her knight to leave her alone.
Not yet.
For that, she was willing to take a small chance.
Burke stared down at her fingers splayed across his chemise. He did not move, as if Alys were a small creature who might be readily frightened and flee.
“Again you touch me of your own choice,” he murmured, his gaze intense as it rose to meet her own.
“I seldom am granted a chance.”
Burke smiled, lines wrought of laughter creasing his tan around his eyes. “I confess, Alys, that I am not inclined to leave the prospect of your company to fortune.” He stroked his thumb across the back of her hand. “I shall try to change in this.”
“You will not vow it?” Alys could not help but tease.
Burke grinned outright. “I do not know if I can do it,” he confessed. “And I would have you know that when I pledge a thing to you, ’twill be thus.”
He sobered, tracing circles on the back of her hand with one warm fingertip. “You must understand, Alys. ’Tis my vocation to pursue any goal with diligence, and with greater diligence still when ’tis of greater import. To stand aside and wait is not a course I know well.” He looked up and his voice softened. “I ask only that you do not judge me too harshly if I fail.”
Alys could not look away from Burke, she could not take a breath, she could not shake herself loose of the desire that raged within her. She was amazed that this assured man would try to change to ease her fears. Alys could not stop her fingers from curling around Burke’s hand. He interlaced their fingers with a slow deliberation that melted her bones.
Alys’s gaze fell to the firm line of his lips. Her tongue ran over her lips of its own accord. She watched Burke catch his breath as he watched her. His eyes shimmered like pale sapphires, but he did not move closer.
He was waiting, though it must nigh be killing him, and she loved him for it.
Indeed, Alys knew with sudden clarity exactly what she could do, what she must do. There would be naught left unsaid between them. She would face her fear and solicit one kiss from this knight, in this moment when he believed the sun rose and set in her.
Alys moved the napkin out of the way without unlocking their fingers, she slid along the sack of grain. She heard Burke inhale when she raised their interlocked hands to her lips. She kissed his knuckles, as he so often had kissed her own, enjoying the different texture of his skin against her lips and feeling very bold.
“This is for returning to tell me the truth of your first departure,” she whispered, her voice uncharacteristically uneven. “Indeed, for insisting I understood the fact of it.”
Burke did not move, though a flame lit in his eyes. She lifted one hand to Burke’s jaw, her fingers easing over the stubble gracing his chin, her heart pounding. She let one fingertip slide over his lips, and Burke sat as still as a statue.
Alys stretched, her mouth gone dry at her own audacity, and brushed her lips across the warmth of his. “This is for granting me your own bed and treating me with honor.”
Burke closed his eyes and exhaled shakily.
To her surprise, Alys found his response to her touch reassuring beyond all. ’Twas good to know that she was not the only one quivering inside.
Alys kissed one corner of Burke’s mouth with slow deliberation.
“This is for your gentle manner with Brigid’s heart,” she breathed against his flesh. He did not move, though the tension emanated from him in waves.
Alys boldly let her lips graze Burke’s as she moved to kiss the other corner of his mouth. “This is for ensuring I had better garb and less labor.”
Burke’s grip tightened on Alys’s hand when she paused before him, their noses a thumb’s breadth apart. Still he waited for whatever she chose to do.
Alys smiled and framed his face with her hands. She was shaking yet felt oddly exhilarated. “And this, sir,” she whispered, her gaze dancing over his intent features, “is for finding a candidate to become Malvina’s spouse in your stead. I would not leave such a bold deed unrewarded.”
Alys took a deep breath, then leaned against Burke’s chest and kissed him full on the lips.
Sadly, her aim was less than ideal, her technique so poor that she bit her own lip. Alys pulled back in a fluster and felt herself flush scarlet at her own inability to make a memorable moment of something so simple as a kiss. She could not look at the laughter that she knew must light Burke’s eyes.
“I am sorry,” she whispered disappointedly, her cheeks burning. “You must think me a witless fool …”
Burke touched her chin with a gentle finger, forcing her to meet his gaze.
“Practice, Alys, practice is key,” he whispered, his eyes gleaming. “Little of merit is won on the first try.” That slow smile eased over his lips and Alys’s heart began to pound. Indeed, he still looked at her with wonder, as if she alone had hung the stars in the firmament.
“I had to return twice to Kiltorren to seek you, after all,” he declared, his lips quirking. “ ’Tis my chivalrous duty to leave my services—and my lips—at your disposal.”
Alys laughed and almost declined, but the warmth in Burke’s gaze prompted her to try again. She was quite certain she had never blushed so furiously.
But Burke waited.
And his eyes glowed with an affection that made it impossible for Alys to think of doing anything other than kissing him again. She took a deep breath, she leaned closer, then hesitated in her uncertainty.
“Ease into it,” Burke advised with a quick lift of one brow. “There is no need for haste.” His eyes widened suddenly. “Unless you have another engagement this evening?”
Alys smiled at the way he endeavored to reassure her. “Nay.”
“Nor I,” he admitted, then winked. “Consider me at your mercy.”
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.