Dance of Desire (42 page)

Her gaze shone bright with anger. "You followed me."

"Nay, love. I hunted and found you."

She continued as though she had not heard him and did not care that Thomas overheard. Her words flew like chunks of ice. "Did you go to the solar, after we spoke? Did you look down from there, see me at the stables, and decide to pursue me? Or did you simply watch from a distance to give the illusion that I had freedom to go, so you could entrap me?"

He took a step forward. His arms shook with the fury pounding through him. "I did not see you at the stables. If I had, I would not have allowed you to ride out of Tangston's gates. Not when you had promised with such sweetness to come to my bed."

She flushed. "You could not have stopped me."

Lust pulsed hot within him, yet he resisted the urge to march forward, grab her arm, and haul her flush against him. To claim her mouth in a kiss. To feel her body quiver with desire and want. He would not take her here, in this humble dirt-floored dwelling, and the next time he touched her, '
twould
be to couple with her.

Aware her defiant stare had not wavered, he said, "You will not leave Tangston on your own again. I will not allow you to recklessly endanger your life. Do you understand?"

Her lips flattened with resentment. She did not answer.

Thomas shifted in his chair, while the dog near the fire tucked its tail between its legs and scurried under a table.

Fane strode closer. He stood near enough now to catch her arm, if he wished. "You will heed me, Rexana."

Her chin thrust up a fraction. "Answer me this, husband. How did you know to find me here? How did you know of my friendship with Thomas?"

Fane smiled. How cunning, that she changed the subject and avoided agreeing to his demand. Yet, he would have a compliant 'aye, milord' from her before their conversation was through. "How? I am a High Sheriff. I have my ways."

Uncertainty flickered in her eyes, but her chin nudged higher. "Rudd told you?"

"I did not ask your brother. My men spoke to Thomas yesterday when they questioned the tavern owners and villagers. He freely admitted he knew Rudd. 'Twas difficult for him to tell of Rudd's treachery, yet Thomas is loyal to the king. He felt honor bound to do so."

Her stunned gaze flew to Thomas, then back to Fane. She blinked, as though unable to believe what she had heard. "Naught you have told me proves my brother is guilty. Did Thomas explain how Rudd supported him and his family over the past months? How Rudd visited every
sennight
to make sure his leg wound was healing?"

Thomas's head moved. "I told them, milady."

With deliberate patience, Fane folded his arms over his chest. "Did he tell
you,
love, that Rudd asked to use his barn, and paid a sack of coin for the privilege? Your brother planned to meet there with his fellow traitors."

She gasped.

Bowing his head, Thomas moaned. "Milady, I am sorry."

"I do not believe it!" Anguish glittered in her eyes.

Fane saw the effort it cost her to keep her head held high. "Love, you must accept the truth. Rudd is a traitor."

"He is not!"

"I have detailed eye witness accounts of the meetings held in local taverns. Over a score, to be exact. I also have the missive which bears his signature."

Her lush mouth trembled. " '
Tis
forged."

"The signature is his. Rudd admitted to me, the first time I questioned him, that he signed the document." Fane held his hand out to her. He willed her to place her fingers in his, to accept, at last, what she must. "Come with me back to Tangston. I will show you the evidence."

"I will not —"

He loosed a low, warning growl. "Come, wife. My patience wears thin. I have waited long enough for you to accept this."
And me,
his heart roared.
And,
by God, me!

Her breathing became ragged. Her hands clenched and unclenched. She looked down at Thomas. Torment etched her face, yet she graced him with a stiff nod. "Good day."

"Good day to you, milady," Thomas whispered.

She swept around the far side of the fire, her gown bright as the leaping flames. She moved well out of reach, as though she believed physical distance could keep her from him.

"Rexana," Fane called.

Half way to the door, she faced him. Her loosened braid flipped back over her shoulder. Like a potent physical caress, he again felt its glorious silk wrapped around his wrist. Binding him to her. Her to him.

"You will never stop me from leaving Tangston alone," she said. "Nor will you keep me from proving my brother's innocence."

A rough laugh burst from him. "Foolish words, little fig."

"I mean them."

He started toward her. She yanked open the door, strode out, and slammed it behind her.

Spitting a curse, he crossed to the door to wrench it open. She did not even glance back. Her braid swaying side to side, she marched past Thomas's bewildered family and Fane's armed guards,
untethered
her mare, and swung up onto its back. Even in anger, she moved with sensual grace.

She would move with such beauty beneath him as he brought her to writhing, moaning pleasure.

Fane halted and planted his boots in the dirt. "Where do you think you are going?"

She coiled the leather reins around her wrists. Her eyes glittered with rebellious intent.

"If you run from me now, you are forever mine."

She smiled, a disbelieving turn of her lips. With a sharp cry, she wheeled the mare around and spurred it toward the road.

"We will stop her, milord," a guard yelled, running to his horse.

"You will follow at a discreet distance, but you will not interfere."

Frowning, the men glanced at each other. "Milord?"

Fane swung up onto his destrier. As though attuned to his heightened state, the horse whinnied and sidestepped. Fane's blood roared. He struggled to keep a clear mind, to keep his desire in check for a little longer.

He fixed his gaze on Rexana. "Obey my orders. The only man to catch Rexana will be me."

Rexana galloped past fields
, down pitted dirt lanes, and through groves of sun-dappled trees. She rode until the sun had slipped from the midday sky. Until her wind-whipped hair felt like straw against her cheek. Until the sweaty mare stumbled and, with a reluctant groan, Rexana knew she must stop to let the horse rest.

As she slowed the animal to a walk, a shiver rippled through her. She had traveled many leagues, yet still, she sensed Fane's presence. Rexana stole a glance over her shoulder again, as she had numerous times during her ride, but saw only distant riders, too far behind and moving too slowly to be pursuing her.

She shook off her unease. Fane had not come after her. He had only chased her for a league or two. To her amazement and relief, the mare had outrun his destrier, and he had fallen back. At times, she had thought the breeze carried the clop of
hoofbeats
or the snort of nearby horse, yet each time she swung around, she found herself alone.

Her imagination toyed with her. Fane had let her go.

At last, had he accepted that she would never surrender her fierce loyalty to Rudd? That whatever Thomas, the eyewitness accounts and missive implied, she would always believe her brother guiltless? That she could not rest, now more than ever, until she found undeniable proof of his innocence?

Fane must have. He had let her go.

Yet, even as her mind offered reassurance, a wild tingle trailed down her spine. A simmering anticipation she could not dismiss.

Her imagination, again.

Rexana studied the road ahead, recognizing the familiar stretch near Ickleton. How fitting that her heart had brought her here, to the place that gave her solace. She guided the mare into the ancient trees' cool shadows, then took the winding deer path to the secluded pool.

As the glade opened before her, she sucked in the calming scents of loam, grass and violets. Her breath rushed out on a half sob. Here, as she had so many times before, she would stretch up her arms to dance.

Here, she would defeat the anxiety warring within her. Here, she would vanquish the nagging voice that warned Fane was not one to forget a promise.

Or leave it undone.

Resisting another shiver, Rexana slid from the mare's back. The horse began to graze. Smoothing her hands down her bliaut, she strolled to the center of the glade. She halted in a shaft of sunlight. Closed her eyes. Called to the ancient place to inspire and enlighten her.

Reaching her arms up to the sky, she dipped and whirled. Grasses tugged at her bliaut. Butterflies and bees whizzed from the heads of wildflowers. Birds flitted through the tree boughs overhead. Leaves rustled.

Her soul shuddered. She begged for answers. Resolution.

If you run from me now, you are forever mine.

Her inhalation snagged in her throat, like delicate silk caught on a rock. Her body twisted, turned, and arched.

I have waited long enough for you to accept this.