Stuart, Elizabeth (40 page)

Jonet
caught his arm. "Something happened to change your mind. Well, what was
it, Alex? I deserve to know!"

He
met her gaze squarely. "Mure walked free. And on the day that he did, I
lost you."

She
stared at him, disbelieving. "You mean if Robert had lost his head we
wouldn't be saying good-bye?"

Alexander
sighed. "I don't know, lass. I honestly don't. But let's not torture
ourselves with 'what if's' or pretend there's a future where there's not."

His
words were reminiscent of what Elizabeth had said. But Jonet wasn't dead. And
she wasn't about to let Alexander put her behind him as if she were. "So
you want the easy way out! Trouble rears its head and you run for the border as
always. Too difficult to stay and fight!"

She
flung back her head, met the astonishment in his eyes with anger. "A woman
alone and unprotected is easy enough to seduce and enjoy for a week or two.
Diana warned me that's all it was. I hate to admit she was right!"

"That's
not true and you know it."

"Do
I? Then come to my room tonight. Tell me what's happened and why. Make me
understand. Dear God, Alex, you owe me that much at least!"

"Damn
it, Jonet, no!" He spun away. "You don't know what you're
asking."

"I
know exactly what I'm asking and so do you." And, when he still said
nothing, "Am I truly so easy to leave?"

"Easy?"
He turned back. "If only you knew."

"Then
tell me, Alex! Help me understand. For God's sake don't send me away thinking I
meant nothing to you!"

Alexander
caught her shoulders and stared down at her. "I once met the ward of my
enemy. A sweet lass, a lass so trusting she even believed in me. But I tricked
the girl, tricked her, wooed her, and betrayed her. And then to my surprise,
the impossible happened... the impossible and unforgivable. I fell in love with
the girl.

"I
fell in love with her" he added softly, "and I wanted to spare her
the hurt of my own mistakes, my own experiences, of events I myself had set in
motion. And through it all something she'd once said haunted me—that the only
regret she would have of our adventure would be if it brought me to ruin.

"
Me
."
He smiled cynically. "She was worried about me. Well, I give your words
back to you, lass, as you once did mine. The only regret I'll have of these
weeks is if I bring you to ruin. That and the fact that there isn't more
time."

For
another moment he held her, then he smiled sadly and stepped away. "The
greatest gift I can offer you, lass, is to get myself out of your life. So, no,
I'll not see you again. We'll say our good-byes here and now."

Jonet
swallowed against the ache in her throat, amazed she could feel like laughing
and crying all at the same time. He loved her. He'd never before said the
words.

"You
idiot!
" she got out. "Do you really expect me to tell you
good-bye after that? To tell you good-bye then face those people back there
with their curious, prying eyes? Well, I'll tell you something, Alexander
Hepburn! You will meet me tonight. You'll meet me or by God, I'll go back and
set the whole court by the ears. I'll start such a scandal, we'll never be able
to show our faces in Scotland again!"

He
met her threat calmly. "You won't do that, Jonet. You won't do it for what
it would do to your uncle. You love the man and despite the fact that I'd enjoy
having him a laughingstock, I wouldn't see you lose him, lass."

Jonet
raised her eyebrows, smiled a smile that would have done Diana credit.
"No? Just watch me. I never intended to live a lie, Alex. I've been
planning to tell Robert all along. He's been preoccupied though... worried
about something. He's not the same man since prison."

The
smile had faded. Jonet frowned and looked down. "I was hoping the two of
you would get to know each other, hoping you might work through the hate. But I
suppose all the time has run out. I suppose it'll have to be now."

He
studied her a moment. "You're bluffing, lass." But she could tell
that he wasn't quite sure.

Jonet
stared back. She might never outface Alexander, but she was certainly enjoying
holding her own. "Try me."

Unexpected
laughter flickered suddenly in his eyes, turned his beautiful expressive mouth
upward. "I don't know that I can be there," he murmured. "There
may be problems."

"I've
confidence in you," she shot back.

"What
of your maid? I can't come calling in the middle of the night with a watchdog
asleep at your door."

"I'll
get rid of her."

By
now he was smiling openly. "Now why does that conjure visions of a body
floating facedown in the Nor'loch?"

"It's
not so farfetched, believe me."

He
moved toward her and held out his arm, a study in sensuous grace. "Very
well, I'll see you tonight, lass. One last time. You've become quite ruthless
at getting your way."

Jonet
felt her heart lifting. Somehow they would work it out. "You're a wise
man, Alex. I've watched and I've learned, you see." She took his arm,
stroked the velvet, felt his muscles tense and then relax beneath her hand.
"I've learned from a master," she added, smiling. "A master of
the game."

The
rain fell all day, stow and steady, and the night came down early and dark.
Supper came and went, and Jonet tried not to feel anxious as the hour grew late
and people began drifting out. She returned to her bedchamber, hoping Alexander
would be there. But the room was empty and dark.

She
lit several candles. It was difficult getting out of the heavy court gown by
herself, but Agnes was gone, bundled off for a good-bye visit to a brother with
a shop in the Lawnmarket. The Maxwells would be leaving Edinburgh in a few
days, or so Jonet had implied. It had been a calculated risk. If Robert stayed
away, Agnes wouldn't be able to ask him about it.

Keep
a cool head, lass.

She
smiled.
Oh,
Alex, I'm trying.
She
stepped out of her shift, slipped into a robe of shimmering gold satin.
I'm trying so
very hard.

An
hour dragged by. Jonet paced the room, listened as the castle quieted for the
night. And still Alexander didn't come.

She
watched the candles burn lower, blew them out all save one. She sat in the
solitary chair, trying not to think the worst. But the longer she waited, the
more certain she became. Alexander had met her bluff with a promise—one he
never intended to keep.

He
wasn't going to come.

It
was late. Jonet rose from the chair, crossed the floor to her clothes chest and
the flagon of good Anjou wine atop it. She stared at the wine. It had taken a
great deal of ingenuity to get it up here, but it was amazing what she could do
when she set her mind to it. She'd never realized that before, had always let
circumstances, convention, other people dictate her life. Alexander had freed
her from that at least, but at what price?

She
swallowed hard.
Oh,
Alex...

"Are
you going to drink that or simply stare at it all night?"

She
swung around. He was standing inside the door.

Her
heart slid into her throat; it was suddenly difficult to get air.
"Actually, I was thinking I'd never been drunk," she managed.
"That this might just be the night to remedy it. One of the few sins I've
omitted these last weeks, you know."

He
moved across the floor and poured them both wine. Lifting a cup, he stared at
her, a slow smile warming his face. "I doubt you'd like it so much as the
others."

Jonet's
eyes slid over him hungrily. His hair was damp, his leather jerkin wet with
rain. Up close he smelled of smoky streets, damp cloth, wet male. And the hazel
flecks in his eyes were golden with candlelight.

She
swallowed again, felt her insides coiling, tightening in expectation. She
reached for the wine, took a steadying drink. "I didn't think you were
coming."

"Nor
did I. I've been trying to convince myself I shouldn't, that I'd done harm
enough."

"So
what changed your mind?"

"I
decided you were right this afternoon. It wasn't fair to leave without
explanations." He smiled. "So ask away. Any questions you choose.
I'll tell you the truth about anything you like if I can. And if I can't, I'll
tell you that too."

Jonet
sipped her wine, lifted her eyes to his. "That beating my uncle took. It
wasn't Douglas men, was it?"

"No.
It was between the two of us."

"I
thought so. He wouldn't talk about it. He acted like... like he wasn't even
comfortable with me in the room." She sighed and stared into her cup.
"I assumed it was you, that it was about me."

"Actually,
it wasn't you, lass. It was something else entirely." Alexander hesitated.
"Take comfort in the fact that we've made our peace of a sort. He's safe
from me, at least, and I from him, I imagine. As for what else is troubling
him, I suspect he'll work through it in time."

"Can
you tell me about it?"

"No.
But what else would you like to know?"

She
took a deep breath. This one was difficult as well. "Did you get that
letter, Alex? The one the English had?"

"No,
lass. The cost was too dear."

She
frowned and turned away. "With all this talk of your marriage to Diana,
with all the gossip I couldn't help fearing that... that—"

"That
I'd turned traitor? Given the English what they wanted like my father before
me?"

"No."
She turned back. His eyes were cool, masking the hurt, but she'd learned to
read him in this much at least. "No! You told me that wasn't true and I
believed you. But I couldn't help fearing that something had happened,
something beyond your control perhaps. I couldn't help fearing for you, but
most, I think, for Elizabeth. She shouldn't have to go through that
again."

"We've
been through that, she and I, for near fifteen years. That's what you don't
understand, Jonet. I pray God you never do."

"Then
this marriage to Diana? Why, Alex?" She met his eyes, asked the most
difficult question of all. "Do you love her?"

He
frowned. "I won't lie to you, lass, I care for Diana. We've been through a
lot together. But no, I don't love her. Not like you mean, anyway. If you want
the truth, I threw that news at Mure in anger. He suspected I'd evil designs on
you—not entirely the fault of his imagination, I might add. I've deliberately
led him to think the worst in the past. He'll tell you about it some day, I
expect."

He
smiled, shrugged. "So I eased the man's mind, put the last of the court
gossip to bed as well. If my affianced wife took you in and befriended you,
it's assumed there was nothing between the two of us."

Jonet
turned away, put her cup carefully on the chest. A vision of Diana rose in her
mind, a sleek, golden goddess, the embodiment of every icon of beauty their
society held. "Oh, aye," she said softly. "They need take but
one look at the two of us to know which any man would choose."

Alexander
followed her lead and put down his cup. "It never ceases to amaze me,
lass, how little vanity you have."

"It's
a difficult quality to cultivate when the man you love has a woman like Diana
Hampton for a mistress. When he's living with her openly and all the court
talks of it." She forced a smile. "Next to her I do look like a
lad."

He
reached out, touched her hair, stroked it gently behind one ear. She closed her
eyes, held her breath. How would she ever live without this?

"What
must I say to make you realize the truth?" he murmured. "You're as
slim and perfect as a flawless taper, Jonet, with skin as radiant as a candle
flame. You've the moon and the stars in your eyes and a mouth a man might kill
to taste. You've a spirit I treasure, an honesty I aspire to, an innate sense
of honor I'd give my right arm to possess. When I'm with you I'm more than I
am, more than I ever thought I could be. And if I've done anything right or
good these last weeks, it's been in your name, lass."

He
hesitated, smiled his slow smile. "And you are so very lovely it makes my
soul ache just to look at you."

If
any other man had said the words, Jonet would have laughed. With Alexander she
found herself fighting tears. "W-what a lovely way of saying I'm flat as a
panel."

His
smile widened, he moved a step closer. "There are flat-chested women,
Jonet, but you aren't one of them. And you know that I know," he whispered
against her hair.

His
hands shifted the satin robe and slid inside to span her waist. Slowly they
feathered upward, capturing and cupping her breasts from below. "But
perhaps I should check my memory... just to be sure."

Jonet
stood still. His hands were warm with a heat that communicated itself to her
body. Her heart began pounding, every nerve in her body throbbing. Wanting
shivered through her, wanting and love, an incredible, overpowering mix.

He
held her like that, unmoving. Then his hands slid to her shoulders, edged the
robe from her arms. It dropped to the floor in a hush of cascading satin. He
stood wordlessly, looking his fill.

Heat
washed over her, through her, a hot aching awareness of the man, of the past
they had shared, of what they could be together. This was torture, but an
incredible one. And by the look on his face, Alexander knew it damn well.

"You
are perfectly, exquisitely proportioned, lass, and you've ruined me for any but
you," he said softly. "And that, my love, bears the truth of the
confessional—in answer to that question you can't seem to ask and despite the
infinite wisdom of the court."

Jonet
smiled. So he hadn't been sleeping with Diana.

She
stared up at him, wanting the feel of him against her, wanting his hands on her
again. She had yet to touch him and the need in her was building, growing so
great she couldn't have denied it for breath.

And
something else was building as well, the confidence she'd learned at Stepton
but lost here at court. Lost to the beauty and polish of every woman Alexander
had smiled at, to Diana's glittering sophistication and the memory of that
scene in a candlelit bedchamber, to all the scenes she'd been imagining since
then. To the fact that it defied her imagination and logic that a man like
Alexander Hepburn could love a young country lass with short hair.

She
stepped close against him, began unfastening the clasps of his jerkin before her
courage could fade. "I've heard the French have a saying about small
breasted women. That their passions are hotter, their needs insatiable, their
assets hidden in other places." She glanced up. "Perhaps you should
find out, my lord."

There
was laughter in his eyes, laughter matched with desire. The best kind.
"And what do they say of the men who do? Find out, that is."

"That
they are wise—" she murmured. "Wise... and deliriously happy."

Alexander
choked on a laugh and dragged her into his arms. She was scratched by the
clasps of his jerkin, damped by the rain still wetting the leather. She reached
for his mouth, met his lips for a kiss that was everything she remembered and
more.

He
loved her. She gave herself up to the joy, to a relief so intense, so intoxicating,
she was dizzy.

He
swept her up in his arms, moved the few paces to the bed and was down on her in
an instant. The weight of his body was heaven, the feel of him hot and hard and
still bound by cloth the most tantalizing experience of her lifetime.

She
was naked beneath him and he took full advantage. His hands slid over her, his
hands and his mouth, taking what he wanted, making her mad with desire. She
tugged at his buttons, dragged at his clothes. "Alex, for pity's sake,
help
me!"

He
laughed and got off his jerkin, got his doublet half unbuttoned. And then he
was kissing her again, unable to keep away, fingers tangled in her hair holding
her, body pressing hard, insistently between her thighs.

She
dragged off his doublet, tore at least half the buttons and embroidery from his
shirt front before she got it over his head. This was what she wanted,
Alexander's body, bare against hers. The satisfying slide of skin against skin.
The play of powerful muscles tensing against her. For her.

"Jonet...
sweet Lord, you're so beautiful!"

She
groaned as his mouth found her breast, as the need spiraled down, that special
ache quivered, intensified in her belly. She tugged at his breeches, dragged
them down over his hips. "Alex," she gasped, breathless with laughter,
with desire. "Oh, Alex, you've got to stop. For a minute at least. I... I can't
get your boots off."

She
tried to push him off. "We can't—"

"The
hell we can't, lass!"

And
then he was pressing her down, firm hands enforcing her surrender. He settled himself
against her, allowing no delay. Testing, teasing, he parted her swollen,
velvety flesh with his own. And then he was inside her, so hot and hard and
satisfying that she gasped.

He
shoved deep, filling the emptiness, satisfying the ache. She groaned and arched
up, rode with him as he moved, as the passion built, as reality blurred, spun,
distilled to a single crystalline, all-encompassing need. As it burst in a
brilliant shuddering convulsion of pleasure and release.

Completion...

Jonet
lay back and caught her breath, tried to reel in her shattered senses.
Alexander had never taken her so quickly, so desperately. His breathing was
loud in the silence. His heart thudded against her chest.

Her
arms slid up, held him, stroked the sleek, powerful muscles of his shoulders.
She could never get enough of touching him, holding him. Not even like this,
when he still possessed her.

He
sighed and turned his face against her throat. "They were right, lass. And
I am."

"What?"

"The
French," he murmured. "And I am... quite deliriously happy. Except
for these damned breeches still tying my knees together!"

Jonet
began to laugh and Alexander joined in. She helped him drag off his boots, the
offending breeches and hose. Alexander's eyes met hers in the candlelight. His
laughter stopped. "I love you, Jonet, more than anything else on this
earth. I want you to know that now, though I didn't mean to say it tonight,
didn't mean to do... this."