Enchanted

by Elizabeth Lowell

  The sight of the fur lining made Simon smile to himself. He would never again look at the silky white fur without seeing Ariane lying on it for the first time, her body all but naked, her skin flushed, her amethyst eyes blazing as she watched him sheathe himself deeply within her.

  Nor had Ariane tired of the sensual sport in the nights that followed. She came to him as eagerly each night as he came to her. In truth, she came to him at dawn, as well. And once he had surprised her alone at her bath. It had been a sensuous revelation to both of them. He planned to find her there again.

  Soon.

  “What a smile,” Dominic said, giving Simon an odd look. “Are you so eager for war?”

  “Nay. I was just thinking of, er, something else.”

  “The coming night?” Dominic asked blandly.

  Simon threw his brother a sharp glance.

  Dominic grinned. “Did you think no one had noticed that you and Ariane spend much time abed?”

  “Abed? Nay,” Simon said gravely. “We are simply doing as you and I did when we were children—hunting for feathered eels.”

  Dominic gave a shout of laughter that caused the other knights to look at him.

  What they saw was their lord’s scarred hands fastening the big Glendruid pin in place on his black mantle. The wolf’s crystal eyes glittered balefully in the swirling torchlight, watching everything, promising grim retribution for any who caused the sleeping beast of war to awaken.

  One by one the men looked away and went about their own work of preparing themselves to fight.

  Simon and Dominic went quickly to the battlements, their metal chausses clicking as they walked. Their squires trotted after, carrying the helms that would be worn only if battle appeared imminent. The squires were both excited and a bit anxious about the outcome of a fight. Though the stonemasons had been working steadily, the wall around Blackthorne Keep still had a gap that was guarded only by wooden palisades.

  The sentry saluted Dominic but had nothing new to add. The riders wouldn’t be within sight again until they came to the open lane through the fields.

  Under a lowering grey sky, Simon and Dominic stood in the center of the battlements, their uncovered hair combed by the cold wind, their long mantles whipping at their ankles, and their chain mail armor the color of a storm.

  “Do you think it is Deguerre?” Simon asked.

  Dominic shrugged. “Word of Deguerre has come to me every day since that braggart Geoffrey arrived ten days ago. Not once has the message varied.”

  “Which means that Deguerre has spent the past ten days progressing slowly north, recruiting knights, men-at-arms, and ruffians along the way.”

  “And whores,” Dominic added.

  “Like a man expecting to go to war.”

  “He claims to gather men for a new crusade to the Holy Land.”

  “No one believes him.”

  Dominic shrugged. “No one has called him false.”

  “Yet. But he will find that there is no cause for war in the Disputed Lands,” Simon said.

  Dominic said nothing.

  “Despite the shrewd maneuvering of Deguerre’s envoy, the king has accepted my marriage to Ariane,” Simon said. “The Duke of Normandy will also be appeased, as soon as the word of our marriage—and the gifts—arrive.”

  “The duke prefers to be called king,” Dominic said dryly.

  “King, duke or churl, he will be content with Ariane’s marriage to me,” Simon retorted. “I am already content. Therefore, there is no cause for argument with Baron Deguerre. He collects warriors in vain.”

  “Does he? Or does he merely bide his time until word arrives that Geoffrey the Fair has been challenged by Simon the Loyal and Geoffrey has been slain for his meddlesome mouth?”

  “Deguerre will wait for that word until ice forms in hell,” Simon said. “I can’t be bothered swatting every dung fly that buzzes about the stable.”

  Dominic looked at the squires and curtly gestured for privacy. The boys withdrew to the relative shelter of the stairwell.

  “Simon…” Dominic began, then sighed. “By the Cross, I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this.”

  Tensely Simon waited, guessing what was troubling his brother.

  “Let me send for Lady Amber,” Dominic said finally. “She will scry the truth or falsehood of Geoffrey’s accusations. Then there will be an end to his trouble-making.”

  “No.”

  Simon’s flat denial was unexpected. It took a moment for Dominic to respond. When he did, he was as blunt as his brother had been.

  “Why not?” Dominic demanded.

  “I don’t want to put Ariane—or Amber—through the agony of Learned scrying.”

  It was only half of the truth, but it was the only half Simon planned to discuss.

  “God’s teeth,” Dominic snarled. “Amber would put an end to Geoffrey’s lies.”

  “What lies?” Simon asked distinctly.

  Dominic couldn’t hide his shock. “Geoffrey says he is Ariane’s paramour!”

  “Nay. He merely insinuates it.”

  “But—”

  “Have you or anyone else seen any sign whatsoever that Ariane has been less than faithful to me?”

  Breath hissed out between Dominic’s teeth in a vicious curse. His gauntleted hand smacked down on the stone parapet.

  “Have you?” Simon demanded coolly.

  “Jesus and Mary,” muttered Dominic. “Of course not! Since Geoffrey arrived, I have no doubt of where and how that swine has spent every waking moment.”

  “With Sven as a constant, unseen shadow.”

  “Aye.”

  Simon shrugged. “Then there is no problem.”

  “Do not play the lackwit with me,” Dominic said angrily. “I know full well that your mind is even quicker than your sword.”

  Simon didn’t respond.

  “Geoffrey is bragging from battlements to bailey that he has lain with Ariane,” Dominic said.

  “He has.”

  Dominic was too stunned to speak.

  “My wife and I spoke of the past once, and only once,” Simon said. “I have permitted no talk of the past since that night.”

  “Ariane told you Geoffrey was her lover?”

  “She told me that Geoffrey had forced her in Normandy.”

  “Forced her?” Dominic asked. “Rape?”

  “Aye.”

  “And Baron Deguerre still thinks of Geoffrey the Fair as his son?” Dominic asked in disbelief.

  “Aye.”

  “Wasn’t the baron told?”

  “He was told,” Simon said neutrally.

  “And?”

  “It happened the night Ariane was informed that Duncan of Maxwell rather than Geoffrey the Fair would be her husband,” Simon said. “Geoffrey says that he was summoned to her sitting room, shared a final cup of wine with her, and found himself seduced.”

  Dominic’s eyes narrowed. “He was believed?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?” Dominic demanded bluntly.

  “There were traces of a love potion in Ariane’s jeweled perfume bottle. The bottle was found in her bed, along with the blood of her lost virginity.”

  “Ariane told you this?”

  “She told me that Geoffrey was responsible for her lost virginity. The details came from Geoffrey. He remembers the event with great…relish.”

  Dominic swore. He could well believe that Geoffrey enjoyed taunting Simon.

  “What does Ariane say to his accusations?”

  “We do not speak of the past. Ever.”

  “God’s blood,” said Dominic fiercely. “What a fine basket of eels this is!”

  “Aye.”

  “What do you believe happened between Geoffrey and Ariane?”

  Simon said not one word.

  “By all that is holy,” Dominic said in a low voice. “You believe Geoffrey.”

  For long, tense moments Dominic searched Simon’s face with glittering grey eyes that cl
osely matched those of the Glendruid pin. Then Dominic swore wearily and looked away.

  “Killing Geoffrey will not change the fact that I was not Ariane’s first man,” Simon said evenly. “Nor will I put the future of Blackthorne Keep at risk for a past that cannot be changed.”

  For a time there was only the wind and the random shouts of knights taking up defensive positions throughout the keep.

  “You accept this?” Dominic asked finally.

  Simon closed his eyes for the space of a breath. When they opened, they were as clear and unreadable as night.

  “I will have no other wife but Ariane,” Simon said.

  Dominic’s mouth flattened into a hard line. “Meg said as much.”

  Simon grimaced. “Glendruid eyes.”

  “Yes. She saw your acceptance of Ariane as she is today, rather than as the innocent maiden you had every right to require for your bride. ’Tis why I haven’t sent for Amber and forced her truth down your stubborn throat.”

  “Thank you. I would not have Ariane shamed before the entire keep.”

  “And you? What of your pride?”

  “It has taken worse blows.”

  “Has it?”

  “Yes. When my lust for a married whore nearly cost your life.”

  With a grimace, Dominic looked out over the keep’s bare fields and mist-wreathed hills.

  “What will you do when Geoffrey accuses Ariane of adultery?” Dominic asked. “And you know he will. He is determined to force you to challenge him.”

  “Sven will gainsay Geoffrey’s lies.”

  “Sven has followed Geoffrey only since he came to the keep. I understand that it is possible Ariane and Geoffrey met just before then.”

  “Sven had best watch his words to you very carefully,” Simon said with deadly clarity. “I can slay him without causing a war.”

  “He is your friend.”

  “Ariane is my wife.”

  Dominic looked at his brother’s eyes and then looked away once more.

  “If Blackthorne were strong enough to withstand war with Baron Deguerre,” Dominic said, “where would Geoffrey be now?”

  “Ten days dead,” Simon said succinctly.

  Eyes narrowed against the cold wind and an emotion that made his throat ache, Dominic waited until he could trust himself to speak.

  “You stay your sword arm, and humble your pride, for the sake of loyalty to me,” Dominic said.

  “And for Meg. For your unborn child. For the children I now hope someday to have.”

  “In the Holy Land, you would not have done this.”

  “In the Holy Land I was a fool ruled by passion. Passion no longer rules me. I rule it.”

  Dominic’s hand formed a fist on the parapet as he fought against the necessity of Simon’s sacrifice. Simon was correct in his assessment of Blackthorne’s vulnerability. They couldn’t defeat a concerted, determined attack by forces such as Deguerre was assembling.

  For a time Dominic closed his eyes and bowed his head as though in prayer. Finally he looked up at the brother he loved as he loved no one except his wife.

  “I am in your debt,” Dominic said, his eyes glittering with emotion. “I don’t know if such a debt can ever be repaid.”

  “Nay,” Simon said. “’Tis I who am in your debt.”

  But Dominic had turned away and was striding toward the sentry. Only the wind heard Simon’s protest.

  “I can see them, lord!” called the sentry. “They are coming on like thunder!”

  Dominic leaned into the wind as Simon hurried forward to stand alongside his brother once more.

  The sentry was correct. The riders were coming swiftly.

  “War-horses,” Simon said.

  “Aye.”

  “Look!” Simon cried. “’Tis Lady Amber!”

  “Are you certain?”

  “Aye. The first time I saw her it was like that, her hair a golden fire all around her. By the saints, Erik is with her! See Stagkiller pacing at the stallion’s side?”

  “He is right,” said Sven from behind them. “And that brown stallion is Duncan’s. I know it well, having led it back to Blackthorne only this past summer.”

  “Thank God,” Dominic breathed.

  He turned and signaled to John, who came at a run.

  “Signal the keep’s people to return to their business,” Dominic said. “And see that Lady Margaret is informed of the number of guests.”

  “Aye, lord,” John said. He turned and sprinted for the stairway.

  “We shall meet them at the gate,” Dominic said. Then, to Sven, “Where is Deguerre’s beloved knight?”

  “I left off watching him when the bell summoned me.”

  “Was he abed?”

  “Nay.”

  Dominic grunted. “Is Geoffrey recovered?”

  “Aye, unfortunately.”

  “From what?” Simon asked.

  Both Dominic and Sven gave him an odd look.

  “Geoffrey was found in the swine pen yesterday morning,” Dominic said neutrally.

  “What?” Simon asked.

  Again, Dominic and Sven exchanged a glance.

  “Someone stripped Geoffrey naked and left him face-down in pig muck,” Sven said blandly.

  Simon looked at the two men, who watched him expectantly in return.

  “Would that I had been the one to do so,” Simon said dryly, “but I wasn’t. Who dealt the fair knight his comeuppance?”

  Without answering, Dominic turned and began taking the staircase with the smooth coordination of a highly trained warrior. Simon and Sven followed, matching Dominic step for step.

  “If I had to guess who sent Geoffrey crawling naked through pig dung,” Sven said as they emerged into the forebuilding, “it would be Marie.”

  “Weren’t you there?” Simon asked.

  “Nay. I am weary of watching him grunt and sweat over her at night and her over him. When she is with him, I wait in the bailey until I see her leave.”

  “But why would she leave him naked in pig mire?” Simon asked, smiling at the thought. “She has been like a leech on him of late.”

  Sven shrugged. “Marie is a woman. Who knows what moves her?”

  “You’ve spent too much time in the company of Erik,” Simon said dryly. “You begin to sound like him.”

  “A man of rare wit and learning,” Sven agreed, smiling.

  “I believe Sven is right about Marie,” Dominic said. “When I went to see Geoffrey for myself, I recognized some of the marks on his body from my stay in that sultan’s cursed prison.”

  “Geoffrey had been tortured?” Simon asked.

  Dominic smiled wolfishly. “You could say that. Or you could say that he had been used very thoroughly by a cruel harem girl.”

  “Marie,” Simon said simply. “She never used those tricks on the three of us, but the rest of the knights learned at her hands just how close pleasure and pain could be.”

  “Aye,” Dominic said.

  “But why Geoffrey?” Simon said as they stepped into the forebuilding. “What had he done to attract Marie’s vengeance?”

  “Ask your wife,” Sven said.

  Simon’s eyes widened. “What does Ariane have to do with Marie?”

  “I don’t know. I do know that your squire saw her go to Marie’s room rather late ten nights ago.”

  “Ten nights…?”

  A curse hissed out from between Simon’s teeth. He stopped dead in the center of the forebuilding.

  “Aye,” agreed Dominic, stopping as well. “The squire had heard about what happened in the armory, when Ariane drew her dagger.”

  “I will teach Thomas the Strong not to talk.”

  “It could have been Marie.”

  “She knows better.”

  Dominic smiled rather grimly. “Aye. Your Edward was afraid that Marie would do something rash to Ariane.”

  “Or vice versa,” muttered Sven.

  “When Edward couldn’t find you, he went to Sven,
” Dominic said.

  “I got there just in time to see Ariane run up the stairs to the battlements as though her skirts were on fire,” Sven said, carefully not looking at Simon.

  A flush that had little to do with the bracing temperature of the forebuilding tinted Simon’s cheekbones.

  Sven laughed out loud, clapped his friend hard on the shoulder, and said nothing more about what had happened on the battlements between Ariane and Simon.

  “Knowing that Ariane was safe, I went back to being the shadow of Geoffrey’s shadow,” Sven said. “Suddenly Marie appeared in the stable where he sleeps. She had his breeches undone before he knew what was happening. It was like that every night thereafter.”

  “No wonder you have looked short of rest,” Simon said blandly.

  “Marie has some interesting techniques. And tools. But in the end,” Sven said, shrugging, “it is all much the same.”

  Simon waited, but Sven said no more.

  “So how did Geoffrey end up in the muck?” Simon asked.

  “I don’t know. The past three nights, when Marie came to Geoffrey, I went to the gatehouse and dozed, knowing that Geoffrey wouldn’t be getting into trouble until well after dawn.”

  Simon shook his head in silent sympathy for Sven’s long, cold vigils.

  “At dawn yesterday,” Sven concluded, “the swinelerd found Geoffrey in the muck. He told Harry the Lame, who came to me. I went to Dominic.”

  “What did you do?” Simon asked his brother.

  “Geoffrey looked quite at home,” Dominic said, smiling narrowly. “I left him there.”

  Simon laughed out loud. After a moment, he had a thought that wiped all laughter from him.

  “What of Deguerre?” Simon said. “From what Ariane has said, Geoffrey is like a son to him.”

  “And you are a brother to me. If Deguerre objects to Geoffrey’s quarters, he can teach Geoffrey to be less of a swine.”

  Simon grimaced. “Nay. ’Tis no fault of yours. You should have none of the burden of Deguerre’s anger.”

  “Then permit Amber to use her gift. It can be done privately.”

  Simon closed his eyes. The passionate part of him, the part that had never willingly bowed to logic, wanted to believe that Ariane’s maidenhead had been taken by rape rather than by seduction.

  And yet…