Sin and Surrender (27 page)

“I wish you to finish what you tried last night, when I was too eager to have you inside me,” she murmured,
smiling as she lay back on the cushions, feeling very much the concubine.

“You’re no longer eager for me?” he teased, but already he took her knees in his hands and spread her thighs.

Juliana gasped, then laughed as he pulled her to the edge of the bed. But her laughter disappeared, as he met her gaze with dark blue eyes, and bent to press a kiss on her inner thigh, just above her knee. With kisses and caresses with his lips and tongue, it seemed to take forever for him to make his way up her legs. She was quivering and covering her mouth with both hands to hold back her moans, her eyes wide as she stared at him.

Then he licked her, a long, slow sweep of his tongue at the center of her that made her convulse with the exquisite pleasure of it. He parted her thighs further, lowered his head even more, tasting her, entering her, then following the long, moist line of her cleft until he once again reached the hooded bud that seemed to throb for him. He drew it into his mouth, suckling, licking, tormenting her until her orgasm was a hot, shuddering slide into oblivion.

Before she could even recover, he lifted her thighs and entered her where he stood, his deep thrusts setting off another explosion of pleasure inside her. It seemed to
go on and on, wracking her with sensation. She reached for him, and held him to her as he found his own release.

Several minutes passed before he could lift his head.

“That will impress the League,” he said.

She hit him in the shoulder. But then she soothed the place she’d hit, and gathered him to her when he joined her beneath the coverlet. These quiet moments were the best, when their hearts beat against each other, and she didn’t have to think about a future without him.

But within her was still a growing feeling that he was keeping something from her.

L
ady Kilborn surprised the guests the following morn by asking if the ladies would like to participate in their own archery competition, giving the men a morning of rest. There were several dozen eager entries, and another half dozen who allowed themselves to be persuaded. Juliana let herself be among the latter.

She pretended to need Timothy as her coach, and they walked the field where targets had been placed against bales of hay. The stands were gradually filling, and she knew Paul was there, with Margaret and Alex at his side.

“Timothy,” Juliana said in a soft voice.

He must have heard the change in her tone, because as he worked on testing the tautness of her bow, he kept his voice to a murmur. “Aye?”

“Is there something more going on with the traitors than I know about?”

He met her gaze at once, frowning. “Nay, you know
everything. I have already sent off this new information about invasion to the League, and hence to the king.”

She smiled. “I thought so. ‘Twas … nothing. I should not have worried that you would still consider me too young for such a mission.”

“You are well prepared, Juliana, and you have proven yourself.”

He handed her the bow, and as she turned away, she noticed that Timothy’s gaze sought out Paul in the crowd, and his frown didn’t lessen.

Although she let herself take third place among the women, Juliana did not feel triumphant, because Timothy had not truly reassured her.

Timothy had thought things were better between Paul and him. But Juliana’s concern now became
his
concern.
Was
Paul up to something? Juliana seemed to believe it was about the mission, but Timothy knew that wasn’t so. He let his suspicions fester for the morning, watching the parade of mummers arrive for a performance that night. Acrobats tumbled over each other and balanced chairs on their noses, and Paul seemed to enjoy all of it at Juliana’s side.

Then Timothy saw Paul talking to her cousin, a spinster approaching her elderly years. Timothy had known she might attend, but had not wanted to alert Juliana needlessly. The woman and her sister had rejected Vis
countess Gresham’s desperate plea for a place to shelter Juliana.

Timothy knew that Paul had also been speaking with Alex—all of his behavior had to somehow be connected.

“They’re here?” Juliana demanded quietly of Paul.

They sat at a trestle table in the great hall during the midday meal, while outside, the course was being set for the horse racing competition.

“How did you learn of my cousins?” she asked, when Paul remained silent in commiseration—or pity.

“Alex.”

“You are quite friendly with him of late,” she said dryly.

“Because he is
your
friend. And in the spirit of friendship, he thought it might be best if I broke the news.”

“I do not wish to see them.” She pushed away her trencher of roasted beef, surprised that she almost felt nauseous.

“And you do not have to. They have not seen you since your girlhood. They won’t recognize you.”

Though Juliana could not blame her mother’s death on these women, she wanted to. If only her mother had felt safe, had known she had a place to bring Juliana, perhaps she wouldn’t have died.

She searched Paul’s face. “You will not think me cowardly if I avoid them?”

“Cowardly?” He cupped her cheek and leaned in to kiss her forehead. “I think it wise, for once your infamous temper is unleashed …”

She bit her lip, but couldn’t hold back a smile. “Infamous temper? I have never heard myself described so.”

“‘Tis only those who know you well, know the truth.”

Part of her was annoyed that he felt the need to take care of her—but the part of her that loved him was torn. It was getting more and more difficult to remind herself that this time with him was temporary, when he did sweet things like this.

She was tempted to ask what he meant to do when this was done, now that they’d found each other. She suspected he would return to France, and leave behind his memories of the League and the anguish they’d caused.

There was another part of her that hoped he might have changed his mind, that he might be falling in love with her as well—but his secretive manner told her that couldn’t be true. And regardless, she could never be with a man who kept secrets.

This even more firmly convinced her she could never wed—she could never keep secrets either.

But she would not meekly stand by.

Through the day, Paul sensed Juliana’s retreat from him, saw the close way she regarded him. It was getting more difficult to keep the truth from her. And now she
knew what the League had done to him, what they were capable of. It was time for an end to his secrets.

He knew her better now, knew she would not be devastated that her beloved League had made another grave error.

That night, he watched her bathe, reveling in their intimacy, almost deciding to forgo any discussion. But he saw her sidelong glance of speculation as she donned her dressing gown, and with a sigh, he resigned himself to what had to be done.

“I’ve been keeping something from you,” he said.

She frowned, studying him. “I know. Surely ‘tis about the mission.”

“Nay, I would never compromise you in such a way. You don’t know that by now?” he smiled at her then, openly showing his enjoyment of her scantily clad state.

She stared at him, her eyes going soft, dazed. Then she blinked and looked away. “Do not try to befuddle me. It cannot be done.”

“And I would never try,” he said solemnly, though his lips twitched with amusement.

“Do not make me pull every detail from you one at a time.” She threw up one hand. “Tell me, Paul. I deserve to know the truth.”

He stared at her, his smile fading, worried about how she would take a truth that would turn her life upside down.

“You’re frightening me,” she whispered, her hand gripping the dressing gown at her neck.

She stood alone at the center of the room, and he wanted to go to her. Such soft feelings only confused him, so he straightened in his chair and began to speak.

“Juliana, I discovered a terrible secret about your past—although I didn’t know it was about you until recently. ‘Twas the final reason I left the League, for I could not bear to be a part of a society that believed only the final outcome mattered, not how one achieved it.”

Though he could see she shivered, she spoke firmly. “Just tell me, Paul, so that your behavior at last makes sense.”

“You know that your father was innocent of treason—the League knew it, too.”

“Only because I told them. And there was nothing anyone could do, because it was too late for my father.”

“‘Twas all a League plot from the beginning, Juliana,” he said with compassion. “I had a habit of eavesdropping on the secret meetings of the Council of Elders. Soon after you arrived, I heard them discussing it. To be honest, they felt badly about what had happened, but could not change it. Your father was blamed for treason to mask the real target of the investigation, allowing the traitor to believe himself safe.”

Her face looked white, as if chilled by a deep winter
storm. “You’re saying … the League knew my father was innocent?”

“They did,” he said gravely. “All I know is that the mission was a success, except for what was done to your father. I do not believe they meant for him to die.”

“‘Twas an accident,” she whispered. “Another prisoner, jealous of Father’s fine garments.”

“I overheard that the League had destroyed a man’s reputation and family to protect the king. And it had worked.”

She lifted her chin. “The king was saved.”

“Aye, he was. But that cannot be the only consideration. You know that. The League cannot become the sort of organization that cares only about the outcome, not the methods used to bring it about. That will only encourage corruption.”

Her nod seemed absentminded, and he knew she was still sorting it all out in her mind. She’d not yet seen that the League had brought her in out of guilt, and part of him hoped she didn’t see that at all.

But as if she read his mind, she gave a great sigh.

“‘Tis why they took me in.” She nodded as if to herself.

Why did she not rail with anger and grief? She was so calm—too calm.

“Whatever their original motives, Juliana, you proved a valuable Bladeswoman.”

“I know.”

But did she?

She looked at him with impassive eyes. “Why are you telling me this now, Paul?”

“Because justice needs to be done. You deserve to know all of the truth, to have your father’s reputation restored.”

She frowned. “But Paul, that might reveal the existence of the League. All of their future good deeds would be in jeopardy.”

“How can you care about them, after what they’ve done?” he asked in disbelief. “They let your father die!”

“They didn’t kill him. I don’t know what their plan for him was, but none of it mattered after his death.”

“It mattered for
you,
for your mother.”

She flinched, and he almost regretted his harsh words.

“Nothing can change the past, Paul.”

“But the truth can shed light on it.”

“The truth might hurt many people. I can’t even blame them for keeping it from me, because in my youth, I had nothing but the League, and would have been damaged by such a revelation.”

“And you’re not damaged now?” he demanded in shock.

“I am … sad and stunned. But the League meant to
safeguard England by protecting the king. They didn’t mean for my father to die.”

“But they meant to ruin his reputation.”

She continued speaking as if she hadn’t heard. “They took me in when I had nowhere to go.” And then she lifted her dark, sad eyes to him. “Leave it alone, Paul.”

“I cannot. Think of the marriage you could have made, the happiness the League cost you.”

“Paul, I’m happy, do you not see?” She approached him and touched his shoulder. “Please, I do not wish you to do this.”

He rose to his feet and paced away from her. “I have to know the truth, Juliana.
You
need to know the truth, though you may not think so now. I do not plan to reveal the League to all the world. But perhaps the entire organization needs to know what was done in its name, so they’re not free to ruin another family again. As of now, no one but the council knows, because of the secrecy surrounding every mission.”

And Timothy, he thought, but he could not say the words aloud, a weakness that ate at him.

J
uliana felt numb as she stared at Paul’s back.

She did not have all that many joyful memories, but there were definitely times of happiness, when her father tolerated her differences out of love, and encouraged her mother to go along. Until it seemed obvious that Juliana would not willingly put aside her fascination with weapons and training. And then her father had reluctantly, but firmly, agreed with the countess’s insistence that Juliana’s place was with the women of the castle.

Juliana inhaled deeply, feeling the old sorrow, but also a faint relief. She’d been right all along—her father had been innocent. But the humiliation of scandal, and then her father’s death, had certainly contributed to her mother’s. Juliana felt bereft, torn, her belief in the League shaken—but not destroyed.

Paul was the one who’d shown her that the League was comprised of fallible men who made the same human errors they all did—believing too strongly in the mission, when innocent people would be hurt. Her
father might have been cleared if he’d lived, as part of the League’s plan. She didn’t know.

But Paul stirring it all up was distracting her from the mission at hand—another attempt to save another king. Who would suffer this time? Or could she make sure no one but the traitors suffered at all?

And their families, she thought stoically. Their innocent families would suffer, just as she had. And it didn’t matter that their husbands and fathers were guilty, and hers wasn’t.

Paul’s determination to unmask the League’s mistakes saddened her. His discovery of the League’s involvement in her father’s treason was too much for him, had driven him away from the only home he’d ever known.