Read Margaret Moore - [Maiden & Her Knight 03] Online
Authors: All My Desire
“Alexander!” Ingar cried happily when he saw Alexander striding toward him. Then his pleasure dissipated, to be replaced with a frown. “You are not dead.”
“Obviously not,” Alexander replied. “I was imprisoned, though, until a short time ago, which is why I did not meet you.”
“Ah. I thought perhaps you had decided to stay with the lady, after all.”
“I would have kept my word. But if you thought me dead, what are you doing here?”
Ingar grinned. “Perhaps I thought to see your lady one last time. Where is—ah!”
Ingar spotted her in the crowd. Then he saw Allis, and his eyes widened. “By Woden’s beard,” he declared, “there are two of them!”
Connor’s face went as red as an apple, and Caradoc’s grim visage grew even grimmer.
Afraid they would draw their swords and start a melee, Isabelle stepped forward. “You must have been drinking too much wine, Ingar, to come to Bellevoire like this, threatening to kill people—”
Bartholomew’s eyes widened, and he made a strangled sound.
“Have I said anything about killing anybody?” Ingar demanded, offended. He waved his dagger to make his point, but he did not loose his hold on the poor reeve, either.
“I come in peace, my lord,” he said, addressing Caradoc, “and if I have the lord of Bellevoire’s guarantee that I may leave in peace, I have some information to sell. These others are only to guarantee the safety of me and my men until I strike a bargain with you.”
“
I
am the lord of Bellevoire,” Connor said, “and I don’t negotiate with brigands who hold knives at my peoples’ throats.”
“And
I
would not risk coming here if I didn’t think I had something of great value to sell to you.”
“What is that?”
“Information. I can tell you where the lady was held. I’m sure DeFrouchette and his friend cannot—they know nothing of the sea and how to set a course. I can tell you where those Brabancons have fled.” Ingar grinned with savage glee. “Of course, if you think this information worth nothing, we can kill your people and fight our way back to the ship.”
The crowd began to whisper and murmur and mutter, and Bartholomew moaned piteously.
“I will allow you safe passage,” Connor said brusquely. “You have my word. Now let them go.”
With a bow and a smile, Ingar did. Bartholomew fell to his knees, gasping for breath. He was quickly surrounded by Gleda and the other servants, who helped him to his feet.
“Inside,” Connor snapped, turning and heading toward the hall.
Ingar and his men followed him, and so did Isabelle, Allis, Alexander, Caradoc and Edmond, leaving the others milling about uncertainly. Connor went to the dais and sat, but he made no move to invite anybody else to do so. Isabelle and the rest stood to the side.
“What do you want in exchange for this information?” Connor demanded of Ingar and his men.
“One thousand marks.”
“Agreed.”
Ingar slid a sly glance at Isabelle, his gray eyes twinkling. “I would ask for the lady, too, but she does not like me, and although she is a beauty, I prefer my horses spirited and my women placid.”
Appalled, Allis sucked in her breath, while Isabelle sighed with relief.
Then Ingar looked at Alexander. “And what of your promise to me, DeFrouchette? Since you are free to go from here, will you keep your word?”
Before anybody else could speak, Isabelle hurried forward and addressed the Norseman. “You may have my dowry if you release him from his pledge.”
“Isabelle!” Alexander gasped.
“Well, if it’s that or you,” she smiled at him, then turned to face the Norseman, “I intend to marry him, and I do not want to be married to a brigand, so I will gladly give you the dowry to release him from his promise.” She tilted her head and gave Ingar her coy and innocent look. “You yourself told me how much he cares for me. Surely you will not take him away, especially when I am willing to pay you to keep him.”
After a moment’s dumbfounded silence, Ingar threw back his head and laughed until the rafters rang with it. Then he shook his head. “By Thor’s hammer, what a woman! I wish you joy of her, DeFrouchette, and many fine sons. I think it will take a pack of you to get the better of her, and for that, I don’t envy you. But your nights … well, for that, I do. But now, my lady, as to your bargain—I agree.”
He turned back to Connor. “There may be other bargains struck, lord of Bellevoire, of trade and alliance. Are you willing to discuss such matters with me?”
Connor, having likewise recovered from his surprise, inclined his head. “Since I would rather make treaties than battle, I am willing.”
“Good—but I would speak of such matters with you alone,” Ingar replied. “Otherwise, I’m afraid that woman will bargain me out of my ship.”
Later that night, after Ingar and his men had taken their money and departed, a treaty for trade negotiated—without Isabelle’s help—and Denis had entertained the company in the great hall with his tumbling before going back to sit with his devoted Kiera, Isabelle slipped into Allis’s garden. Roses climbed upon the walls, and poppies, primroses and other flowers filled the beds, their scent light on the evening breeze. The moon rose bright and full, its silvery light illuminating the path, but leaving other areas deep in shadow.
“Alexander?”
A strong hand reached out and drew her into one such shadow, and then her lover’s lips found hers. Happy to be alone with him at last, she relaxed into his embrace. His hands meandered over her body, stroking and caressing and exciting her as only he could.
Raucous laughter burst through the silence from the direction of the barracks, and a door banged. Bartholomew wandered past the gate, regaling somebody with the tale of his near death at a fierce Norseman’s hands.
“This is not as private as I had hoped when I suggested it,” Isabelle murmured, disappointed.
“No,” Alexander agreed with both remorse and laughter in his voice. “But perhaps that is for the best. After all, if we are found making love in the garden, it would be a great scandal.”
“As if I care anything for gossip,” she chided with a smile, inching closer. She found the thought of making love with him then and there incredibly exciting.
“No, it’s clear to me that you don’t,” he whispered as he pressed light kisses over her cheeks and lips. “I daresay many tongues are going to wag as it is, and there will always be those here who will hate me for what I have done.”
“They will hate your evil twin.”
Alexander pulled back, and she could tell he had that little wrinkle of concern between his brows. “Ah, yes, my evil twin. Did you put that idea in your brother-in-law’s head?”
“Not at all,” she answered honestly. “I don’t know where it came from, but if it means people won’t set upon you like those two guards did, I don’t care.”
He chuckled softly. “Nor do I.” He embraced her tenderly. “And it’s very good of Connor to offer to send a message to his friend about being his garrison commander. I hope Sir Ralph de Valmont will agree.”
“I don’t think you have to fear that he will refuse Connor’s request,” she replied. “Connor is a friend of the king, and Sir Ralph wishes to be, so he will probably be glad to accept Connor’s recommendation—as well he should. I also understand he’s terrified of Caradoc. There was some kind of misunderstanding, and he seems to think Caradoc is always on the verge of going off on some kind of rampage, so he does not want to be considered my family’s enemy.” She toyed with a strand of Alexander’s hair. “I can understand why he would wish to avoid that. Caradoc is very like you, and you’re frightening when you’re angry.”
Alexander ran his fingertip down her cheek, making her shiver in a very pleasant way. “I never seemed to frighten
you
.”
“Oh, I was very afraid at first, but I didn’t want to show it.”
“You certainly succeeded.” He sighed, his lips against her hair. “I cannot believe all that you are willing to give up to be with me.”
“I gain far more than I lose.” She relaxed against him, then raised her head to look up at his angular face. “We’ve already made love and we are not married yet,” she noted as she caressed him boldly. “How much of a scandal do you think it will be if, by chance, we are found here?”
His breathing quickening, he closed his eyes. “I don’t know.”
“Shall we risk it?”
“I think I have just realized something about you, my love. You
like
danger.”
“It does lend a certain spice to things, I suppose—as long as this is as dangerous as we get. I have had enough of true danger to last me a lifetime. And I think
you
like women who stand up to you.”
“I admire women who stand up for themselves,” he amended, “although I must say, I don’t think I’ve met any other woman so capable in that regard. Which is one reason I love you so much.”
“Perhaps one reason I found you so seductive was your dark and brooding temperament.”
“You think I brood?” he asked, as if genuinely surprised.
She undid the buckle of his sword belt, and it fell to the ground. “You used to. I shall simply have to keep you too busy to think deep, dark thoughts.”
He gasped as she put her hand under his tunic, then sighed as she ran her fingers over his chest. “I don’t think I’ll ever be unhappy or discontented again,” he murmured as he gathered her into his arms. “Everything I shall ever want is here in my arms.”
She raised herself on her toes to kiss him. “And everything I have ever dreamt of is in mine.”
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2002 by Margaret Wilkins
ISBN: 978-0-38-082053-5
EPub Edition © APRIL 2012 ISBN 9780062205681
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