Kathryn Le Veque (11 page)

She stroked his hair. “There’s
nothing to forgive, darling. You tried to help me. It’s not your fault that it
went awry.”

“You are far too gracious.”

“Would you prefer that I hate
you?”

He laughed softly, relief
flooding him. “Not really.” Her breasts were against his face and,
instinctively, his lips found the soft swell. He kissed her, gently. “I would
prefer that you remain as sweet and gracious as you are.”

Alisanne continued to caress his
hair as his mouth tenderly worked the roundness of her breasts. His hands
cupped each globe, kneading them gently as he suckled her flesh.
 
In the darkness and privacy of the chamber,
her gown fell down from her shoulders and Roane tasted the sweetness of her
nipples as if they were the most delectable, succulent fruits.
 
In his heated grasp, Alisanne groaned her
pleasure.

Roane lay her down on the end of
the bed, ignoring his weak and dizzy body, as he slid the gown further and
further down her torso. He kissed her tenderly over every inch of her velvety
flesh, sliding her gown off the rest of the way and finally tossing it aside.
He was painfully engorged, but he patiently spent his time acquainting her with
his touch.

“Roane?”
Alisanne whispered.

“Aye?”

“I want you to take me now, this
night,” she hissed. “I want you to fill me with your son so that Dodge will
never have the chance to do so.”

His head came up from her abdomen
and he gazed at her in the very dim light. “He will never get the chance as it
is. We are leaving tonight.”

“But we are not gone yet,” she
ran her fingers through his short, soft hair. “Until we leave… until I know we
are well away from Dodge, I still fear that we might fail.”

He knew she had a point. He would
be damned if Dodge de Vere would touch her, much less fill her with his
child.
 
It seemed like an immoral thing
to do, deliberately impregnate her so that Dodge would never have the
chance.
 
But the emotions he held for Alisanne
told him that his desire to procreate with her were natural, not immoral.
 
He loved her with every fiber of his
being.
 
Whether or not she was married to
him, whether or not they would ever be married, she was already his wife in his
heart. He believed God intended such things to happen when earthly
circumstances were less than ideal.

“We will not fail,” he said. “As
long as we are together, we shall never fail. As I take you now, I do it
because of the love I have for you, not the contempt I hold for Dodge.”

Alisanne’s unfocused eyes were moist.
“I love you as well. With everything I am
,
I am
yours.”

He kissed her tenderly, his body
aching with emotion. “As I am yours,” he whispered. “Are you sure you want to
do this? There is still time to stop, to wait.”

“Wait for Dodge to take me
first?”

He signed softly. “I don’t want
this to seem like we are two dogs in heat, mad to be the first one to deposit
his seed. There is far more to it than that. But I must be honest and say that
I feel the need to claim you for my own more strongly than I’ve ever felt for
anything. To think of Dodge touching something that, heart and soul, belongs to
me….”

He couldn’t finish. Alisanne put
her fingers to his lips. “Then wait no longer. I want my first, and only touch
of intimacy, to be from you. Fill me, Roane, as only you can.”

His hose came down and he thrust
into her quivering body, breaking her maidenhead and hearing her whimper
beneath him. He regretted that it was necessary to do it so quickly, so boldly,
but the brief flash of pain was over and now he could concentrate on showing
her how lovemaking was meant to be. Alisanne clung to him, a new and
frightening experience rapidly turning into something heated and
wonderful.
 

As he moved, she moved with him,
their hips grinding together, lifting their passion higher and higher. There
was a wonderful friction building, a fire spreading from her loins and into her
limbs like river of flame. Roane touched her, kissed her,
whispered
heatedly in her ear to fan the flames into a wild blaze. Suddenly, the inferno
in her body erupted, sending her into gentle convulsions that dimmed her
hearing and laid waste to the world around her. And somewhere in the midst of
her sweet madness, she heard Roane softly grunt her name and knead her buttocks
furiously until his passion, too, seemed to come to rest.
 

Alisanne thought time had come to
a halt. Nothing seemed to move in the darkness of the chamber except her
thumping heart and Roane’s loud breathing. They were heated, sweating, wrapped
in each other’s bodies. Alisanne never wanted to let him go, feeling Roane
against her, his fingers gently caressing her head. Of all the things she had
imagined lovemaking to be, it had never been this wonderful.

“Are you well?”

Roane’s voice floated down to her
in the darkness and she turned toward him, pulling his head down for a kiss.

“Never better,” she murmured.
“Thank you.”

He returned her heated kisses. “I
am sorry it had to hurt, but it is like that the first time for a woman.”

“The pain was well worth the
price.”

Roane didn’t know what to say. He
was, in truth, overwhelmed by the entire experience. Never had it been so
wonderful for him and he thanked God for His blessing in bringing Alisanne to
him. For a man who had been a loner his entire life, now he couldn’t stand the
thought of being a single individual again. Alisanne completed
him,
a piece of him that he never knew was missing.

“As much as I would like to lie
here all night, savoring your sweetness, I fear that time is of the essence,”
he murmured. “The sooner we leave this place, the better.”

She nodded. “I know.”

“I hate sounding so callous after
so wondrous an experience.”

“You are not callous, you are
truthful.”

With a final kiss, Alisanne sat
up, feeling around for her gown. Roane found it for her, lying on the floor
beside the bed, and helped her dress. He even put her slippers on for her, as
difficult as it was for him to move at all.
 
Alisanne appreciated the gesture.

“I’ll go and tell my father now,”
she said.
“Father Joseph Ari, too.”

“Let your father find John Adam,”
Roane said. “I don’t want you wandering the halls with Dodge and his men
lurking about.”

“As you wish,” she said. “I’ll
return as quickly as I can.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

She stumbled toward the door and
he rose from the bed, naked, to help her find the panel. No sooner did he touch
the latch than the door flew open in a swift, popping rush.

Alisanne stumbled back, startled.
Roane instinctively put himself between the open door and the lady, his massive
nude form proud and imposing. The corridor beyond was lit with smoking torches
and Dodge stood in the threshold, a host of mercenaries lingering behind him.
They snickered lewdly when they realized what had most likely happened, but
Dodge wasn’t amused at all.

“I knew she would be here,” he
snarled. “Damnation, I knew it!”

Roane remained calm. “For once in
your life, you were correct.”

Dodge glared daggers at him. “So you
are not as wounded as we have been led to believe,” he said. “You are
apparently well enough to take what does not belong to you!”

Roane would not acknowledge his
assertion.
 
He was more concerned with
how he was going to get them out of this mess.

“You took what did not belong to
you to begin with,” Roane growled. “She was always mine, de Vere. ‘Tis time you
realized that.”

“She’s my wife, you arrogant
bastard, and these walls within you reside are also mine,” he turned to the men
behind him. “Tell Father Bordeleaux that his prisoner is well enough to travel.
Tell him to get this thieving whelp out of my castle!”

Alisanne, forcing herself from
stunned silence, pushed forward. “Dodge, no! He’s still too weak to….”

Dodge made a move to grab her,
but Roane flattened him with one swift blow. Alisanne could hear men rushing
him and she began to scream, begging Dodge and his men not to hurt him. She
pushed forward into the melee to somehow protect him and she could hear Roane
begging her to get away. But she could not, would not, listen; sighted or not,
she had to help him. Before she could get close to him, however, someone
grabbed her from behind and hoisted her up, carrying her from the room.

Alisanne could hear the sounds of
scuffling fading as she was carted further and further down the corridor. She
fought and kicked, screaming Roane’s name and hearing his desperate calls in
return. But it was of no use; Roane was overwhelmed, and so was Alisanne. Dodge
clapped a sweaty hand over her mouth the last few yards of the corridor before
throwing her into her chamber and bolting the door from the outside. Alisanne
cried and beat against the door furiously, but the panel remained solid.

Desperate, she put her ear
against the crack in the door, listening for any sounds from Roane. For all she
knew, they had killed him. Weeping, heartsick, Alisanne sank to the floor, her
hands on the door, praying that Roane was alive and well. She couldn’t even
imagine what Dodge would do to punish him. But that paled in comparison to the
fact that the Hospitallers were now going to take him back to Birmingham and
Clavell Hill where they would try him for heresy and, even worse, witchcraft.
 

The worst possible thing she
could imagine had happened. She had feared it all along, as if a premonition
had been warning her. Alisanne cursed God for letting her have one brief, sweet
taste of immortal love,
then
in the next breath she
begged him to help Roane. Short of a miracle, she didn’t know who else could
save him except God.

Or, mayhap, Baron
Coniston.

CHAPTER NINE

Nine days later

“My lord,
I come for one who cannot come,” Joseph Ari said. “I beg audience with the Baron.
‘
Tis a matter of life and death for his brother.”

The
great hall of Gargrave Castle was a cavernous room with a great vaulted ceiling
and a gallery surrounding the entire chamber, cut with lancet windows for light
and ventilation.
 
The walls were of red
stone and two massive tapestries hung at either end. The castle itself was over
one hundred years old, a Norman structure built on top of an earlier, possibly
Roman, fortification. The sight on a hill overlooking North Yorkshire was
perfect defensively and aesthetically.

There
were a few people in the great hall, most of them servants loitering in the
shadows. A pair of well-dressed men lingered before Joseph Ari, one of which
had announced himself as the majordomo of the estate. The other man, mayhap
nearing forty years of age, had auburn hair and wide shoulders and never
uttered a sound. He sat in a large oak chair while the other man did the
talking.
 
At the mention of Roane,
however, both men seemed to show a great deal of interest.
 
In fact, mentioning Roane’s name had gained
Joseph Ari access to the castle in the first place.

“Who
sent you?” the majordomo asked.

“The Lady
Alisanne de Soulant,” Joseph Ari couldn’t bear to call her by her married name.
He eyed the two men carefully, hoping his words would gain him further
credibility. “She and your brother wish to be wed.”

The
majordomo looked at the man in the chair. “Roane is to wed?” he repeated with
awe. The other man looked equally surprised. The majordomo turned back to the
dirty, worn priest in a flash of arrogance. “Who is this woman that she is
worthy enough to be betrothed to an heir to the House of De Garr?”

“Her
father is the Baron Craven,” Joseph Ari said with thinning patience. He was so
exhausted he was ready to drop; riding non-stop for nearly a week had brought
him to Gargrave Castle and the point of collapse.
 
He didn’t want to stand here and argue. “The
de Soulant family is old and distinguished. Edward de Soulant, the lady’s father,
served King Henry in his personal guard.”

The man
in the chair had been listening intently. It was obvious that he was very
interested, yet he seemed unnaturally restrained.
 
“Who are you to this family, priest?”

“I am
the lady’s uncle. And one who served with Sir Roane in the Holy Land.”

The man
eyed him dubiously, though it was difficult to tell exactly what he was
thinking. After a moment, he spoke again. “Why do you say that you come for one
who cannot come? Why can’t the lady travel in important matters regarding her
betrothed?”

Joseph
Ari wouldn’t lie, but he could twist the truth just a bit. “She is… ill, my
lord. It is extremely difficult for her to travel.”

The man
in the chair accepted the explanation. “Then tell me why you have come in her
stead.”

Joseph
Ari was astute enough to realize that he was addressing the Baron. Other than
the fact that the man was well dressed and possessed a definitive air of
authority, he also faintly resembled Roane. “My lord, are you aware of the
history of Sir Roane’s troubles?”

The man
tried to remain neutral, pretending not to know that the priest recognized him.
But his façade was for naught. “I’ve not heard from Sir Roane since he joined
that foolish sect and traveled to the Holy Land years ago. What troubles do you
speak of?”

The
priest’s eyes glittered. “Then you know nothing of his gift.”

“What
gift?”

Joseph
Ari moved closer, the reverence in his voice evident. “Sir Roane was blessed
with a great gift whilst in the Holy Land. God gave him the ability to give
sight to the blind; I myself was blinded in one eye and healed by the touch of Roane.
The Hospitallers refused to believe that Sir Roane could perform miracles and
denounced him as a sorcerer. For three years, Roane has been hiding from the
very sect that once embraced him. Now they want to prosecute him for heresy and
witchcraft. Thanks to a bounty hunter, the Hospitallers now have him. Lady Alisanne
has sent me to his most gracious and powerful brother to ask for help.”

The man
in the chair changed expressions as the story sank in; he went from interest to
disbelief to rage in a matter of seconds. Suddenly, he was rising from his
chair, his handsome face taut. “Are you telling me that those idiot
Hospitallers are trying to kill my brother after he gave up everything for
their foolish notions of healing and devotion?” he boomed. “Once they bled him
dry of every bit of wealth he had, they decided he was a heretic?”

Joseph
Ari shook his head. “It wasn’t the money they took from him. It was the fact
that in the Holy Land, God blessed him with a miraculous gift, one that follows
the precise directive of the Hospitallers. Roane was given the gift to heal, my
lord, and the others feared him for it. They think he is possessed.”

Bowen de
Garr, third Baron Coniston, took on an expression of disgust that much favored
his younger brother. “Rubbish,” he growled. “I don’t know about any damnable
gift from God, but I do know that my brother is no more possessed than I am. In
fact, I would wager to say that Roane has finally come to his senses by leaving
the sect and finding a decent woman to marry.”

Joseph
Ari could feel hope bloom in his chest. “Then you shall help your brother?”

Bowen
glanced at the majordomo as if seeking guidance or permission or mayhap both;
it was an odd, silent exchange. But the majordomo merely shrugged. “It was your
father’s wish that…” he began quietly.

“I know
what my father’s wish was,” Bowen snapped quietly as he ran his fingers through
his auburn hair. He didn’t appear indecisive as much as he appeared stunned.
Had his father been there, however, there would have been quite an attitude of
refusal. Mayhap that is why he had sought some sort of approval in the
majordomo, a man who had faithfully served his father. Old habits were hard to
break. But Bowen was most assuredly not his father; he and Roane had always
been close and he had missed his brother terribly. Now was not the time to let
bygone bitterness between his father and brother
affect
his decision.

He
looked at the priest.
 
“You know that Roane
was disinherited when he joined the Hospitallers.”

“I
know.”

“My
father cried many hours over his errant son, though he would never let on.”

“A
father never loses love for his son.”

“He
demanded that his name never again be spoken within these walls.”

“Will
you leave him to his death, then?”

Of
course he wouldn’t.
 
Bowen shook his head
slowly. ‘”I am not my father,” he said softly.
 
“But I’d be lying if I didn’t say I feel the anger of his presence at
this moment, knowing that I am about to help him. Do you know where they have
taken Roane?”

Joseph
Ari felt a wave of relief; for a moment he thought things were going to work
out differently than he had hoped. “Clavell Hill, on the outskirts of
Birmingham, is the Hospitallers’ lair,” he replied. “They are most likely, at
this moment, going through the mockery of a trial, condemning Roane for crimes
he has not committed.
 
Because they are
crimes against God, they will undoubtedly find him guilty and execute him by
purification.”

Bowen
seemed to pale; in fact, the ambience of the entire room chilled, a stir of
terror at the thought of such a horrible death.
 
Purification was the most hideously painful death known to man, the
agony of the human body thought to also kill the spirit of the demons that possessed
it. Time was of the essence, for every second ticked away the
remaining
 
minutes
of Roane’s
life.

“Stupid
bastards,” he rumbled. “They shall wish they had never laid eyes on Roane de
Garr, for now in my anger they shall feel the wrath equal to that of God’s on
earth.” He turned to the majordomo in a fit of fury and purpose.
 
“Zander!”

The
man’s body went taut with anticipation.
“My lord?”

“Rouse
the troops. Assemble all but fifty men in the outer bailey within the hour. We
ride for Birmingham!”

The
majordomo fled. Instantly, the great hall turned into a hive of chaos as the
servants scattered, preparing to send their army on a well-supplied mission to
save their native son.
 
Joseph Ari
watched the commotion, murmuring fervent prayers of thanks to God for the Baron
Coniston’s determination. He could only hope they would not be too late.

***

Eleven days later

“I
should never have listened to you,” Edward hissed. “This is the most foolish,
insane thing I’ve ever done!”

Alisanne
ignored her father’s ranting. He had been ranting the entire trip from Kinlet
Castle and she was long accustomed to it. “How close are we to Birmingham?” she
asked casually.

“On the
outskirts,” her father growled. “We should not have come, Alisanne. We can do
nothing for Roane. We can only pray that John Adam was able to convince the Baron
to come to his brother’s aid. We can do no more!”

Alisanne
was resolute. “I cannot rely on the fact that the Baron will be convinced.
 
If he does not come, we must be here to help Roane
in any way we can.”

Edward
shook his head in frustration. “How?” he snapped softly. “We can do nothing
against the Hospitallers!”

“I can
only trust that we will know how to help when the time comes,” she said firmly.
“In any event, I do not intend to leave Roane to face this alone.”

Edward
knew that; he sighed, his anger softening.
 
The only reason he had come with his daughter was because he knew she
would have come to Birmingham with or without his help, and he certainly could
not let her go alone.
 
Dodge and his men
had been on a drinking, eating and hunting binge for over a week, lavishly
spending the reward from Roane’s capture. Their frequent and long absences had
made it possible for Alisanne and her father to slip away unnoticed, but Edward
knew their luck wouldn’t hold out forever. When Dodge came out of his stupor,
he would realize his wife was missing and it would be no mystery as to where
she might have gone. Time was growing critical. He would come after her with a
vengeance.

“I don’t
know what we can do,” he repeated, with less force in his tone.

“The
first thing we can do is gain entry to Clavell Hill,” she said. “We shall worry
about the rest when we get there.”

Edward
lifted his eyebrows in resignation. Birmingham was a sprawling, dirty city
filled with all of the characters one might expect in such a town. Edward and Alisanne
rode into the southernmost outskirts of the berg, and were immediately
swallowed by the bustle. People were everywhere, the dust from their travels
heavy in the air.
  

Alisanne
could smell the stench, hear the commotion, but it was difficult to make out
anything of detail.
 
All seemed to be one
big, colorful blur.
 
Edward directed the
old horse through the crowds, careful not to run over anyone. The last thing he
wanted was attention. He paused once, to ask a shopkeep where he might find
Clavell Hill. The toothless old man pointed to the north, explaining the location
of the monastery.
 
They were half way
through the town before Edward spoke again.

“Now
that we know where we are going, have you any plans yet?” he asked.

“I told
you I would know when we got there,” Alisanne said.

Edward
was silent a moment, watching a young girl, not unlike his daughter had been
long ago, play in the dirt.
 
“You are
going to see him, aren’t you?”

“I did
not come all this way not to.”

“Are you
hoping he’ll help you plan his own escape?”

“Roane
is a brilliant man. He’ll think of something.”

Edward
shook his head with defeat and frustration. “That has been your plan all along,
hasn’t it? To see Roane and have him orchestrate his own escape.”

“Is that
so wrong?”

“No,”
Edward said softly. “I am just not sure what we can do against one hundred
Hospitallers. Alisanne, I am not even sure if they will let you in to see him.
What if they don’t?”

She was
more determined than he had ever seen her. “Then we shall find a way,” she
said. “We
must
find a way, father. I did not come all this way to be turned
back.
”