Siege Of the Heart (13 page)

“I thought we would return to the castle.” She threw a look over her shoulder. He took a position right behind her.

“We will, but there are things we need to discuss first.”

She finished running her hands down each of the horse’s legs and then straightened. “I have nothing to say to you.”

“But I would say some things to you, Isabel. You disobeyed me. I cannot ignore that.”

She spun toward him. “I told you I would not send my men to fight a foe I am unwilling to face myself.”

“And I told you I would face the Welsh in your stead. You may not have a care for your safety, but you are my responsibility until I take you to London.” He loomed over her. “I have thought on the best way to rein in your recklessness.” His mouth firmed into a hard line. “Somehow I doubt a flogging will make you respect me.”

She shied away from him. The dark look in his eyes was back. “Alexandre…”

“Call me Alex.” Her eyes locked on his mouth as he leaned toward her. His words drifted across her lips. “
Non
, I think there is just one solution.”

Her breath halted in her chest. “I think it is time we return.” She tried to push past him but he would not move out of her way.

He took hold of her arms and held her still. A muscle worked in his jaw. “That would be prudent.” She stared up at him, transfixed by the way his mouth shaped the words. “But I have not known you to be prudent.”

Before she could think to protest, he bent down and claimed her lips with his. Isabel went rigid, too surprised to respond. Then he pulled away, an unknown look glittering in his eyes. He fingered the hair that had fallen out of her braid.

She should say something to stop what was going on, to stop the confusion coiled up inside her. The words of refusal formed on her lips, but he just watched her, as if he were trying to tell her something with just a look. He moved his warm hand to her face, caressing her cheek. She trembled.

The scent of man and cold snow clouded her mind. A good maiden would slap Alexandre for such boldness, but she could not muster the willpower to push him away. She could not pretend she did not want this.

She let her words fall away.

Alexandre lowered his head and warmed her lips with another kiss. He cupped her face, angling it against his just right. Moving his other hand to her waist, he pulled her hard against him as she reached up and twined her fingers in his long, thick hair. Overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through her, she clung to him. She gave herself up fully, and trailed her hands down, fisting them in the folds of his cloak.

With a groan, he kissed her lips apart. As he slipped his tongue into her mouth, more heat charged through her body. She was lost in his taste, so different from hers, but desired it—him—all the same.

He abruptly broke away from her, and pressed his face into her neck, his nose cold against her skin. His ragged breaths floated between them as he moved back and stared down at her. He smoothed her hair away from her face. The dark, piercing look in his eyes made her guts churn. The tenderness was still there, but the want was more visible.

She was not a naive little girl. She knew what a man wanted from a woman. He leaned toward her again, but this time she managed to pull away.

She remounted with forced calm. Kendrick had been right about Alexandre, and the thought brought a fresh rush of guilt. She took a few deep breaths to quell the unease that had immediately taken the place of the warmth she felt in Alexandre’s arms moments before. Of all the things that could happen, this was the worst. How could she let him kiss her? Why had she given in? She wanted to think this did not change anything but could not convince herself.

Alexandre got back on his horse but his eyes were still on her. The hunter in him was back, his dark hair tousled, his eyes sparked with hunger, his lips surprisingly red. She touched her own and found them swollen.

“My lady…”

She hated the fact she was trembling. “It is already as if it did not happen.” Her life was complicated enough without this added predicament.

“But Isabel, it does not have to be—”

“I will not debate this with you.”

9

Her horse lurched to the side of the trail, then righted himself. He lurched again, favoring his right hind leg. Isabel dismounted and ran her hand down his leg. No hot spots.

“What is it?” Alexandre called out.

“Something is wrong with his leg.” She picked up the hoof. The iron horseshoe seemed sound enough. She felt underneath, along the calloused pad at the base of the hoof, and dislodged a sharp stone. The muscles in Hardwin’s hindquarters bunched, then went still as she let go.

“A stone.” Isabel’s hands fisted at her sides. “No doubt because of your carelessness earlier.” She wanted to hit him. It was his fault, this…everything.

Alexandre gave Hardwin a long look. “He seems fine to me now.”

That was true enough, but she well knew how a minor injury could turn into something far worse. “I will not risk lameness by riding him the rest of the way.”

“Surely it is not that serious.”

She nearly stamped her foot. “I said I will not risk it.”

He looked like he would argue with her but shook his head. “Very well. My mount can carry both of us.”

Oh yes, he would like that. Having her cling to him all the way back to the castle. She pushed her hair out of her face. “I will walk.”

“I cannot leave you out here alone. Look at the sky. More snow, I warrant.” She followed Alexandre’s gaze and frowned at the sight of the setting sun almost overtaken by gray clouds. He drew his horse closer to her. “I doubt we will make it back to the castle before it hits.”

“That matters not to me, but if the weather conditions are not to your liking, you are welcome to ride ahead.”

His shoulders drew back. “I am at your service.” He dropped to the ground.

“That will not be necessary.” She took her horse’s reins and tugged him along, telling herself it did not matter if Hardwin was not favoring his leg anymore. “We will be fine on our own.”

Alexandre chuckled, the sound echoing forlornly in the empty woods, and followed her. “That may be, but you are still my responsibility.” He looked around. “Is there a tenant nearby we can shelter with?”

“
Non
. But even if there were, I would not have you bully them into offering us hospitality. I refuse to subject my people to the likes of you.”

She thought she saw a flash of disappointment in his eyes but must have imagined it, as his arrogant features hardened once more. “Then what do you suggest, my lady?” A sharpness that was not there before edged his tone.

She looked to the sky for strength and led her horse onward.

“Where are we going?” Alexandre called after her.

She did not bother to answer, knowing he had no choice but to follow.

After pushing their way down an overgrown trail, they emerged onto the road connecting Ashdown to Hereford to the north. She pulled her cloak closer to her frame. “Stay alert. The roads can be
dangereux
.”

His answering grunt was lost as the wind picked up, bringing with it a chill that cut through her cloak.

The road was a dirt track, more mud than snow, barely wide enough for a team of four horses to travel unhindered. They trudged along in the muck for a long while before it began to sleet. Just when she was about to lose hope, she saw the old tree stump marking the little side trail she had been looking for.

They led the horses off the road and into the shadow of forest. It took longer than she liked to get her bearings in the gloom. She stopped once, wondering if she had blundered off the trail. It had been years since she had had reason to be here. After a frantic moment, she resumed walking, Alexandre following silently.

She was grateful he made no comment at her indecision. He was probably exhausted. He still wore chain mail from the battle. The heavy metal links would wear down even the sturdiest of frames after so long. Her father always claimed mail was the worst part about warfare.

Her foot finally struck stone. “We are here.”

Alexandre looked where she pointed—at a small crevice in a wall of stone too small and shallow to be considered a cave. But the overhang was enough to provide them cover from the sleet now streaming down.

Alexandre looped the reins of the horses on a low hanging tree branch, and grabbed their saddlebags. Isabel sat and shifted back until she fitted her spine against the cold rock.

“How did you learn of this place?” The tinkle of metal links echoed off the stone as Alexandre struggled out of his mail.

She closed her eyes to ease the pressure building there. She had been seven, young and foolish and full of grief in the wake of her mother’s passing. “My father said something careless when I was younger, so I ran away. It grew dark, and I found this place to pass the night.”

“Headstrong, even as a child, no?” Alexandre settled down next to her, placing his mail on the opposite side so it would not rust further. He rummaged around in his bag and pulled out flint and tender. “I will start a fire.”

Isabel tugged him back and then folded her hands in her lap. “
Non
. We are still too close to the road. We do not want to attract attention.”

“But you must be freezing.” He rested a heavy hand on her shoulder. Tendrils of warmth sank through the wool of her cloak. “Come now. You are shivering.”

“Pray do not trouble yourself with me.” She pulled away from his touch.

He crossed his arms and leaned back. “No fire. I suppose it is too much to ask for something to eat on a night such as this.”

“Perhaps not.” Isabel pulled her saddlebag close and fished around inside. “Ah.” She pulled out a stale loaf of bread and wedge of hard cheese. She had had no way of knowing how long they would battle with the Welsh, and had packed provisions just in case.

Alexandre watched her carefully as she used her seax to slice the bread and cheese. She moved to sheath it, but he caught her wrist and peered down at the dull glint of the knife. “An English blade, if I recall. Why do you wear it?”

She tugged her hand from his grasp and slid the seax into her sheath. “It was passed down through my mother’s family.”

“Same with these?” Alexandre reached out and fingered the golden brooches on her shoulders. “Most of Harold’s housecarls wore similar gold bands and bracelets at Hastings.”

She looked down at his hand and counted her breaths until it fell away. “Yes.”

“You are very proud of your English background.”

She could not tell if there was implicit censure in the comment or not. She sniffed. “I try to honor the heritage of both my father and my mother.”

Alexandre watched her with a thoughtful expression. “I was told your lady mother was an Englishwoman of some standing.”

“Yes,” she said through gritted teeth. The Norman was surprisingly well-informed. Matilde’s doing, no doubt. “She was a distant cousin of Earl Godwin. When King Edward brought his Norman entourage to England, my father met my mother, Alvina of Wessex, at court. After they married, he was able to stay in England even though many of Edward’s Norman advisors were exiled.”

He nodded and took the bread and cheese she proffered. “And Lord Dumont has made a name for himself here with his cavalry training to help defend the border against the Welsh.”

“Yes. Decades of bloodshed have done naught to quell the bitterness between Wales and England, and raids are all too common—even when Gruffydd ruled. But thanks to my father’s efforts, and that of FitzOsbern in Hereford, the local thanes have learned to repel them.”

“I must say I was impressed with your father’s men today.”

“They have been well trained.” She swallowed, her throat working hard to gulp down the dry bread. “I thank you for the assistance you provided. It was a victory we should all be proud of.”

He waved away her thanks. “It was the right thing to do.” He was quiet a moment. “I meant to ask what you and Kendrick were discussing so intently earlier. For a moment, I thought you were fighting about something.”

So he had seen their conversation. She took a deep breath, and nearly choked as the cold swarmed into her lungs. “It was an old argument,” she lied. “Do not concern yourself.” With everything that had happened, she barely had a chance to think on Kendrick’s offer, surprising as it was.