Timestruck (21 page)

“As far as I’ve been able to learn,” Gina
said later that night, “Charles is not aware of Father Guntram’s
visit to Regensburg. The priest wasn’t in the great hall this
evening, and no one has mentioned him, so I am assuming that no one
but Fastrada, and possibly a servant or two, knows he has been
here. I’m guessing that Father Guntram will arrive with Pepin as if
he hasn’t seen Regensburg since the last time he came to
court.”

“Very likely,” Dominick said, sounding
distracted, as if something else was on his mind.

They were in his bedchamber. Gina had gone
there to speak with him when he did not come to her room after they
returned from the palace. She judged it was a couple of hours
before midnight, and though the rest of Dominick’s household had
retired, she wasn’t the least bit sleepy.

“What’s your opinion of the offer Lady
Adalhaid made to me?” Gina asked.

“Interesting,” Dominick said as though he
wasn’t thinking about Lady Adalhaid. “Not entirely unexpected.”

After the enforced celibacy of the trip from
Feldbruck, followed by Dominick’s advances toward her on the
previous night and his teasing promise of that afternoon, Gina had
assumed that he was planning at least a few passionate hours once
they were back in his house. Now that they were alone together, she
couldn’t understand his preoccupation.

“What’s wrong? Why are you shutting me out?”
As so often happened, the words that came out of her mouth in
well-spoken Frankish were somewhat different from what she intended
to say. Still, the message was clear. “Have you learned something
that you think is important? Talk to me, Dominick. Tell me what’s
going on.”

“What is going on,” he said, “is my amazement
when I realize how long it has been since I’ve held you close.”

“Well, you did try last night. That was my
fault, not yours,” she said ruefully. “I have promised to stay
awake tonight, and I will.”

“Gina.” His lips touched hers lightly.
“Beautiful Gina. You drive me mad with longing.”

“You don’t act as if I do,” she said.

“No? Shall I prove to you how much I want
you, how I have ached to hold you close, night after uncomfortable
night?” Hands still on her shoulders, he drew her nearer, wrapping
his arms around her. “There are hours when you are all I can think
of, moments when I believe I will die if I cannot bury myself deep
inside you until I hear you cry out in delight.”

“Oh, Dominick, don’t you know I want you,
too?” In newfound hope and trust she raised her face to him. His
mouth came down on hers boldly, with no tentative, preliminary
testing. Gina melted into him, freely giving what he demanded of
her. His arms were tight around her, offering no chance of escape
from his mounting passion. But then, escape from Dominick was the
last thing on her mind. She welcomed him, kissing him back,
matching passion for passion.

He tugged at the sash of her woolen robe and
pushed it off her shoulders so it fell into an untidy, and
unheeded, pile around her ankles.

Gina caressed and stroked, then tore at his
clothing, eager to feel the hard length of him in her hands. She
rejoiced in his groan of pleasure when she was finally able to
touch his naked heat.

They stood toe to toe for a long moment,
simply holding each other, immobilized by the sensation of skin
against skin. That didn’t last very long, though. Wild desire,
repressed for too many nights, seized hold of them. Dominick put
his palms on Gina’s buttocks, lifting her up and closer still. His
mouth ground against hers. She folded her arms around his neck,
holding on tight, afraid he’d let her go again. She couldn’t bear
to be separated from him for even an instant; she’d die without his
body straining against hers.

They fell onto the bed together, Dominick on
top. His hands were all over her, beginning with her hair, which
was growing longer and curling around her face. He wove his hands
into the curls, tugging gently. He moved on to caress her shoulders
and breasts, pausing to tease her nipples till she cried out at the
sensations he was causing deep inside her. Next he encircled her
ankles with his big hands, then stroked her calves and thighs in a
purposefully tantalizing dance of clever fingertips, until he
reached the very core of her that was already, so quickly, hot and
moist and ready to receive him.

She felt his mouth on her and screamed, so
flooded was she with heat and a building tension that she knew he
was going to release – but not until he was finished tormenting her
by kissing and suckling her breasts, by turning her over so he
could place a hot, moist row of kisses all along her spine while
his fingers were finding and teasing the sensitive places between
her thighs. She moaned and wept and pleaded with him, and he
chuckled and promised more to come.

“That’s pleasant enough,” he said when he
held her face to face again.

“Pleasant?” she gasped, and suddenly found
that she could not speak another word, for he was pushing his
hardness against her and she was desperate to hold all of his great
length inside, where he belonged.

“I like to see the look of wonder on your
lovely face when I possess you,” he whispered. “Gina, my dear
heart.”

The pressure and the stretching sensation
intensified, and she murmured his name, lifting her hips to him,
accepting his size with ease, for he had prepared her so well that
she was already beginning to dissolve into him.

He withdrew a little, then thrust hard
several times, and Gina’s mind exploded into rainbow-hued fragments
of light and color, into a pleasure so fulfilling that all she knew
was Dominick filling her, and all she heard was his triumphant cry
of release.

In the sweet, languorous aftermath, Gina lay
thinking about the haunting urgency of Dominick s lovemaking. It
was almost as if he feared they’d never come together again. Her
twentieth-century experiences with men who promised one thing but
did another came to mind to provide a possible explanation she did
not want to consider in connection with Dominick. But consider it
she must.

Dominick was lying to her. Or, more
accurately, he was concealing something from her.

She did not doubt the reality of his passion
for her. That had been honest and intense. But Dominick had used
his need for her and had played upon her longing for him to direct
her attention away from the intrigues they were supposedly
investigating – the intrigues they had been discussing when the
lovemaking began.

It did not require a great leap for Gina to
reach the conclusion that Dominick had learned something of vital
importance, something to do with the plot against Charles. He’d
told her several times that he must have irrefutable evidence
against the nobles involved before he could go to the king with
what he knew. Gina thought Charles should have been alerted as soon
as they reached Regensburg, so he could be on guard against attack,
but she wasn’t going to second-guess Dominick. He knew more about
the workings of Frankish society, and more about the character of
the king, than she did. If Dominick said Charles would demand
proof, then he was probably right.

But they were supposed to be working together
to find that all-important evidence. He owed her an explanation.
She was hurt that he hadn’t offered one, especially after she had
told him everything she had been able to learn during her day at
the palace.

He wasn’t going to do any explaining while he
lay sleeping in her arms. She ran her fingers through his hair, and
Dominick sighed. He briefly tightened his hold on her, then relaxed
again. She’d have to wait until morning to confront him with her
conclusions. In the meantime, she ought to get some rest.

She was just beginning to drift off when
Dominick stirred. Slowly, cautiously, he slid out of her embrace
and lifted himself off the bed.

So stealthy were his movements that Gina came
instantly awake, though she pretended to be asleep. The only light
in the chamber was the star glow from the night sky beyond the
un-shuttered window, so as long as she kept her eyes closed, she
didn’t think Dominick could tell that she was aware of what he was
doing.

She heard him pull on his tunic and trousers
and then his boots. She knew when he picked up his sword belt and
the cloak he’d tossed down on his clothing chest upon returning
from the palace hours earlier. She had thought the act odd, for
Dominick was a neat man and usually put his belongings away after
he used them. Now she knew he had wanted the cloak easily available
because he was planning to sneak out.

He paused to look down at her, and Gina lay
perfectly still, scarcely daring to breathe. When his lips touched
her forehead in a brief kiss, she longed to grab him and demand to
know what he was doing and where he was going. But she knew he
wouldn’t tell her. He would offer an excuse, perhaps even make love
to her again to shut her up. Then he’d wait until she really was
asleep, and he’d sneak out and do whatever it was he was
planning.

Without her. After lying to her.

She wasn’t going to let him get away with it.
She was going to follow him and find out what he was up to.

She got out of bed and went to the window
just in time to see his tall figure walk away from the house.
Dominick wasn’t heading directly for the palace. He had chosen a
street that would take him past the palace and past at least a
dozen houses of noblemen. He could be planning to stop at any of
those houses.

Gina sped to her own room, stopping there
just long enough to throw a woolen gown over her head. She had
barely thrust her arms through the sleeves when she was pulling on
and tying her shoes and snatching up her dark cloak.

She knew better than to leave Dominick’s
house by the front door. If she tried, she’d have to deal with the
guard posted there, who was sure to ask questions about Dominick’s
guest going out alone so late at night. She’d lose too much time,
and Dominick would be gone before she could get away from the
house, assuming the guard was even willing to let her leave.

She hurried toward the back door, lifting a
key from its hook as she passed through the kitchen. Then she was
racing out to the walled area behind the house, where the bathhouse
was, and the gardener’s tool shed, and the door to the stable,
which had its main entrance onto an alley at the far end of the
property. Along one side of the backyard lay a kitchen garden, and
there was a door in the wall, used by the gardener to bring
supplies in and carry refuse out.

Gina halted only once, to be sure neither
Benet nor the other groom who slept in the stable, nor any of the
men-at-arms, were awake. Hearing no sound of anyone coming to see
who was in the garden, she fitted the key into the door and pulled
it open. There was no squeaking of hinges; Dominick’s house was
beautifully maintained. Thinking she might need to return in a
hurry, Gina left the key in the door, pulling it almost shut behind
her.

She stood in the dark, quiet road until her
vision, already adjusted to the night, detected a movement in the
direction Dominick had taken. She set out after him, keeping to the
darkest shadows, being as quiet as she possibly could and praying
she wouldn’t run into any late-night carousers.

The road Dominick had taken slanted slightly
upward, leading away from the river. Only a few people were out so
late at night. A couple of drunken men in workers’ clothing lurched
across the road ahead of Gina. She halted, worried that she’d have
to make a detour around them, thus possibly losing Dominick, who
was moving rapidly through the dark. But Charles kept the town in
good order. A watchman accosted the workers and bundled them off
with stern admonitions about drinking too heavily. Gina waited only
a moment or two before hurrying onward to where the road opened
into a large open square in front of the church of St. Peter.

She saw Dominick stop as if he was listening,
and she tried to shrink into invisibility. When he ducked around
the side of the church, Gina followed him.

The church was built in the shape of a cross,
with the main entrance at the foot of the cross. The transepts, or
crossbars, were about three-quarters of the way down the long nave,
and there was a door at the end of each. These were smaller and not
as splendidly decorated as the bronze double doors at the main
entrance. In the architectural style Gina was coming to know well,
the walls were of thick stone, and the supporting arches and the
small windows were rounded at their tops.

The solid bulk of the church loomed upward
against the night sky. No lights showed at the windows. All was
silent and serene, as a holy edifice ought to be.

Gina saw Dominick vanish through the door in
the south transept. When she reached the door she found that he had
left it slightly ajar, as she had done with the garden door back at
his house. Perhaps he, too, wanted a quick route of return. The
door was heavy wood with a big iron ring for a handle, and Gina was
grateful not to have to pull it open and risk making noise. She was
able to squeeze through the opening and into the dense darkness of
the interior.

At first she couldn’t see anything. She did
hear muted scuffling sounds, as if several people were there and
were attempting rather unsuccessfully to be quiet. As she stood
still, trying to decide what to do next, a light flared ahead of
her to her right, in the chancel. Gina started forward, staying
close to the wall and being as quiet as possible.

The light was coming from a single taper on
the altar. The church was so huge that one candle flame did nothing
to dispel the nighttime shadows, not even with its glow reflecting
off the golden cross on the altar and a series of golden
candelabra, each as tall as a man, that stood at the entrance to
the chancel, bearing unlit candles. Still, there was light enough
for Gina to make out a group of cloaked and hooded men, perhaps a
dozen of them, perhaps more, huddled together beside the altar. She
could not see any of them well enough to identify them.