Dance of Desire (40 page)

She stepped back, catching Rudd's cold fingers, then releasing them. At the terse wave of Fane's hand, the scowling guard strode forward, hunkered down, and unlocked the manacles at Rudd's ankles. The metal sprang open. The chains clattered to the ground. Rudd stood motionless, his moist gaze locked with hers, as the guard freed his wrists.

The instant the chains fell away, he stumbled to her and hugged her tight. The guard strode away.

After a long moment, Rudd held her at arm's length. His gaze shot to the doorway, then back to her.

"You are well?" His voice sounded unsteady.

Smiling, she nodded. "Better now I have seen you."

"I asked to see you. Linford refused."

The scrape of a boot from the doorway warned her Fane stood nearby. Close enough to hear their conversation. Resentment flamed inside her like burning oil. Still, she would not waste her precious moments with her brother. "I asked to see you too." She pressed her hands over his, felt the tremor that ran through him.

"I cannot believe you are his wife." Rudd drew a harsh breath. "How did this come to be? He has not harmed you, has he? Mistreated you? God's holy teeth, if he —"

"He treats me well. How do you fare?"

"I cannot wait to quit this wretched place."

Anguish underscored his words. He obviously tried to be brave, but he was only ten and five. Far too young to spend the rest of his life locked behind bars, or to be executed for treason.

She looked up into his unshaven face. "I know you are innocent of treachery. Tell me how I can prove you are not guilty, and I will do it. I promise."

His mouth curved in a shaky, almost regretful grin. His gaze dropped to the brooch pinned to her bliaut. "You wear it. I am glad."

Smiling, she touched the little arrow. "Of course I do. I treasure its beauty, and wear it every day. I shall wear it even when you are free and cleared of all wrongdoing."

As she fingered the gold, an idea blazed into her mind. Zounds! Why had she not thought of it before?

Thomas would be able to vouch for Rudd's honor and integrity. Rudd had visited Thomas with her every week as Thomas recovered from his arrow wound. Her brother had given Thomas's family coin to pay for a healer and to buy food. Had not Thomas's brother made her brooch, as a token of thanks?

Exhilaration flowed through her, hot as molten metal. She must visit Thomas as soon as possible, and see her brother freed from this horrible imprisonment.

Rudd leaned closer, until his tattered sleeve brushed her wrist. "Rexana?"

"Do not lose hope," she murmured. "I will not fail you."

He shook his head. "I fear I have failed you."

His strangled words cut like a sharp-edged stone. What, exactly, did he mean? He had failed to prevent her marriage to Fane? He had failed to live up to her expectations? He had failed a promise he had made to their parents? Stifling a pang of uncertainty, she wrapped her arms around him. Told him, with her snug embrace, that she believed him innocent. That she loved him.

Tears filled her eyes. Her resolve was slipping. She would not cry in front of Rudd. Not now. Not when she might have found a way to save him.

She blinked away the wetness. "I must go now," she said against his grubby shoulder.

As she drew away, he turned his face into her hair, as though he meant to kiss her. "Keep the brooch safe," he whispered against her ear, so quietly she almost did not hear.

She straightened. Shock pounded in her veins. Her palms coated with sweat. She glanced at him — she could not keep from looking — but his face remained in a tender smile, as though he had not whispered those few important words. But he had.

Keep the brooch safe.

Why? What was so important about the little gold arrow? Rudd had whispered, so Fane did not hear. There must be a reason why Rudd wanted his words to be private.

She felt Fane's assessing stare upon her back. Disquiet slid through her to settle in her stomach like a lump of ice.

Her lips had turned stiff and wooden, yet she managed a smile. She nodded once to Rudd. "We will speak again soon, dear brother."

"Goodbye, Rexana."

Fane watched the guard secure
Villeaux's
cell door, then followed Rexana into the stairwell leading out of the dungeon. She ascended with brisk strides, her shoes tapping on the uneven stones. He watched her bottom's luscious sway. Her skirts rustled, a familiar sound, yet something was amiss. His mouth filled with a foul taste, like the tart residue from an unripe lemon. A voice inside him whispered he had been deceived.

He had witnessed her visit with her brother. He had listened, assessed, and committed details to memory, like the occasions when he had been dragged in chains to
Gazir's
palace hall and displayed as a prized war trophy to visiting Saracens. Rudd had not slipped Rexana any messages. Nor had he spoken words or phrases that suggested hidden meaning or a brother to sister code.

Rexana reached the top of the stairs. Her head jerked, and she glanced down the corridor toward the hall. Torchlight played over her bound hair and rigid shoulders. Anger vibrated from her, potent as a hooded cobra poised to strike.

He would know what had transpired. His duty demanded it.

Before she walked away, he loped up the last steps, caught her arm, and pressed her against the wall. When she cursed and tried to shove him away, he thrust his hips forward, until her body was pinned between him and the mortared stones.

She looked up at him, her lips set in a mutinous line. "Fane, move."

Trailing one hand down her hair, he caught her braid. "You have not spoken one word to me, little fig, since we left your brother."

Fury glittered in her eyes. "What is there to say? I cannot bear to see Rudd so. '
Tis
unjust, disagreeable and —" Her body shook.

Fane gently turned his hand. Her braid, soft as a silken cord, wrapped around his fingers. "Are you not pleased that I released his chains during your visit? Despite your worries, you have seen he is hale, and not being tortured or beaten."

Rexana swallowed. "Aye, I am pleased. 'Twas most generous of you, and I thank you for the visit. Yet, it changes naught. Now I have gone, he is once again chained. A prisoner. An innocent man condemned."

Misgiving raced down Fane's spine. She told him what he expected to hear, not what he wanted to know. Pressing his lips to her brow, he said, "What else runs through your pretty head?"

Squeezed against him, her breasts rose and fell on a huff. "Naught I wish to tell you."

He chuckled. "At least you do not feed me a falsehood."

"Fie! There is naught to tell. You saw and heard all that occurred in my visit with Rudd."

"Did I?"

Her furious gaze locked with his. "Aye."

The braid pulled taught. Her head tipped back against the wall, exposing her creamy neck and bringing her pink mouth closer to his. The lust that had blazed between them in the garden rekindled. '
Twould
be easy to woo her into coupling with him, and '
twould
all begin with a kiss.

She tried to shove him away. "Release my hair. I am in no mood to play."

"I am." He nibbled her lips, felt her quiver. "I gave you what you desired, a visit with your brother. Now, you will grant me what I wish. What we both wish," he amended on a rasp.

"Fane —" Her plea warmed his mouth.

He kissed her. "Aye, love, you will cry out my name when I make your body soar." He flexed his hips and relished her shuddered gasp. "Come with me to the solar. Lie with me, naked, willing, so I may show you this pleasure." His tone roughened with need. " '
Tis
our destiny, Rexana, as husband and wife. You know it, as well as I."

Her blazing eyes shadowed with longing and — God above — indecision.

Frustration gusted through him like a winter gale. "Come."

She looked away. When she spoke, her words were calm, yet held a residual edge of anger. "I need a moment alone to gather my thoughts. Then, I will."

"Nay, love. Now."

Her lips curved in a wry smile. "You will not force me. You have had the chance, but have not done so." Pressing her hand to his cheek, she whispered, "A moment is all I ask."

Her thumb swept over his skin in a light caress, and his pulse leapt. His fingers loosened, then he released her braid. "Do not make me wait long, Rexana, or I shall come fetch you."

He balled his hands into fists, the only way he could keep from lifting her into his arms and carrying her to their chamber. He fought the hunger wailing in his blood, turned on his heel and stalked away.

Exhaling a held breath, Rexana stepped out into the sunlit bailey. She had little time, so she must be convincing. Her acting skills had fooled a High Sheriff once. With luck, she should be able to deceive the stable hands.

Forcing herself to take unhurried strides, to ignore the fury fizzing inside her, Rexana skirted a group of pecking chickens and walked toward the low-roofed stables. She glanced at the lowered drawbridge, then beyond, to a horse drawn cart rumbling on the dirt road.

A shiver ran through her. Fane would thunder through the hall, bellowing and searching for her, when she did not arrive at the solar. He would be furious.

As she imagined Fane's handsome face, dark with rage and disappointment, her conscience pinched. She shoved aside the inconvenient emotion. He could never understand her deep bond to Rudd. Seeing her brother in tattered garments and chains had made her quest to clear his name and free him even more urgent.