encouragement he needed to continue. Slipping his hand
down her back, he stroked her hip and thigh. Then from
behind, he slowly slid a finger into her moist womanhood.
She jerked as if burned. “Captain Blaine!”
“Under the circumstances, shouldn’t you call me
Jeremy?” he asked wryly before deepening the intimate
caress. He kissed her again, more confidently, stroking
Alicen until she cried out.
“What are you doing to me?”
“Giving you pleasure,” he growled low in her ear.
Lifting her leg over his hip and holding her on her
side, he entered her then brought her quickly to climax.
***
“Have I pleased you, my lady?” Jeremy nuzzled
Alicen’s hair, cradling her to his chest. He lay on his back
with her half atop him.
“I am not your lady,” she replied, unable to keep
bitterness from her tone.
“Do you wish to be?”
Her pulse leapt at his words, but she covered her
reaction with a half-laugh. “For but a night? Nay. ’Tis a
soldier’s way of thinking, not mine.”
“Prideful wench. You’d endure torture before
confessing you might enjoy me.”
His words touched the core of her despair, and she
swallowed the tears burning in her throat. She fought a
terror that warned against revealing more of her emotions
to this man who would depart, taking her heart away.
But, ignoring that stubborn warning voice, she
ventured all on honesty. “Don’t leave.” She emphasized
her soft plea by tightening her arm around Jeremy’s waist.
Jeremy sighed and pulled her closer still. “I’m bound
to, lass. William needs me in the campaign against Harold.
To reclaim all the bastard stole.”
She raised her head from his shoulder to fix him with
a measuring look. “Why? Aught we might require is here
at Landeyda.”
“But I have naught to give you,” he protested, twining
a lock of her hair in his fingers.
Her smile was bittersweet. “Not even yourself?”
Her implication made Jeremy’s breath catch. Then
reason returned, and he set his jaw. “You don’t
understand.”
“Aye, you have that aright.” Propping herself on an
elbow, she stared down at him, and he saw fear in her
eyes. “Must you fight, Jeremy? You could be injured.”
Her voice dropped to a whisper, “Or killed.”
He shrugged. “I owe service to William.”
She looked ready to scream. “William of Tynan has
hundreds of retainers, and the Duke of York for an ally,”
she retorted. “I daresay he’d not lament your absence.”
“Alicen—” Jeremy reached up to cradle her face in
both hands, fingers spreading through her hair. “I am a
knight. I have my duty. And I must go to help William.”
Tears made her eyes glisten like emeralds. “You’re
just like my father, like Orrick, like every other soldier!
You’ll leave your comfort behind to follow some banner.”
Jeremy gathered his courage and risked his heart. “I
need you. I’ll return for you when I’m able. Trust me,
sweetling.”
“You speak of something you’re unwilling to give me
in return,” she replied grimly. “You trust me not.”
She pushed away and made to leave the bed, but he
caught her arms and pulled her down onto her side, her
back tight against him. She went rigid in his arms,
shoulders back and set.
“I wish to give you your due,” he whispered. “A lady’s
life. Your life thus far has not been easy.”
She twisted around to face him. “Yet it has suited me
these eight years past.”
“But you deserve to live as a gentlewoman,” he
insisted. “I cannot give you that until I win back my lands.”
“All I need is you, Jeremy. Naught else is necessary.”
“It is for me. How long will I hold your heart if I cannot
provide for you? How long can any woman love a man
who has naught?”
“I am not like other women,” she said with quiet
firmness.
“And I am not like other soldiers.”
They stared into each other’s eyes then, seeing doubts,
needs, yearnings to trust...and past experiences that
prevented them from doing so. He looked away first.
“Hold me, Jeremy,” she whispered. “‘Twill suffice.”
He crushed her to him. If only passion were enough,
he’d not venture a step from this woman who permeated
his being.
He would return to claim the peace that was his when
he held Alicen close. No other—not even Estelle—had felt
so right beside him. Perhaps the spirit of Alicen’s mother
had guided him there so many weeks before to find his
mate, the one woman who would cherish and heal his
battered spirit.
Yet duty dictated he leave. How to make her
understand that going wasn’t abandonment? She didn’t
trust him to return. He understood that, as his own
mistrust had kept his feelings at bay to spare himself
more pain. Now Alicen had won his heart, and in return
he had to win her trust.
While he contemplated his problem, he stroked her
soft skin, enjoying the lean muscles beneath it. Her
sensitivity inflamed him, and fervent pleasure drove away
dark thoughts. Physically, Alicen was ardent for his
lovemaking. Her heart would fall eventually.
She gasped when he bent to suckle her breast. “Are
you insatiable?” came her hoarse question as she broke
away from him. “Leave me be.”
“In truth, I cannot, Mistress.” He leaned over her to
whisper, “You’ve enslaved me. I’ve never pleasured a
woman so in my life. And I’m willing to do so as oft as I
can this eve.”
“Why so solicitous toward me?”
The challenge in her voice warned him to tread
carefully. He’d intended to declare himself that very night,
but realized she’d no wish to hear such confession. His
heart clenched. Why love this slender, infuriating vixen
when any number of experienced women boldly sought
his notice?
You are destined to love each other.
Hearing the voice in his mind didn’t surprise him,
but love might not mean he and Alicen could be together.
She dreaded his departure, and he could not shirk his
obligation to William. Guilt seized him. If only he could
stay! Once he’d fulfilled his obligation, he would return
to Landeyda. With land and a title, he’d set about
reclaiming Alicen’s trust.
In the meantime, he hesitated to reveal his innermost
emotions. Declaring his love wouldn’t change the fact that
he had to leave.
“You give comfort and healing,” he told Alicen after a
moment’s silence. “All I know is destruction, death.... Oft
I must retreat from those pursuits and seek gentler ones.”
Bemused, she stared at Jeremy. Rhea’s observation
had been correct, yet Alic
en herself had not acknowledged
this side of him—the sensitive, unshielded side she loved.
Love. That was the unnamed emotion hiding in her
heart, keeping to the shadows, afraid to step into the
light. She loved him, but he would leave to ride with the
Duke of Tynan in spite of that. She could never speak
her love to Jeremy and have it ignored.
But she could show the depth of her feelings.
Gathering her nerve, she gently pushed him onto his back.
She felt a slight smile draw up the corners of her mouth.
Her hand stroked across his massive chest and over
his taut stomach as she whispered, “What gentler pursuits
did you think to find, sir knight?”
Growling, Jeremy pulled her atop him.
***
He awoke alone.
Stifling disappointment that he could not wake Alicen
with a kiss, he left the bed, donned his hose and went in
search of his intoxicating healer. The cottage stood empty,
but he heard voices outside so returned to the infirmary
for proper attire.
When he emerged a few moments later, both Ned and
Alicen occupied the main room—she at the hearth,
preparing eggs and thick slices of ham for breakfast, her
back to the room.
“Captain Blaine,” Ned greeted him enthusiastically.
“’Tis good to see you looking well.”
“Thank you, lad.” Jeremy did not take his gaze from
Alicen. “Did the foal arrive?”
Ned beamed. “Aye, a fine colt. I assisted the mare in
her delivery.”
Jeremy at last turned to smile at the apprentice. “I
knew you’d do a splendid job.”
Pride’s crimson flush stained the boy’s fair cheeks.
“Alicen said I could accompany her on her next birthing.
Of a baby, that is.”
A baby. Poignant memories of Liza’s delivery caught
Jeremy off guard. ’Twas one of many experiences he’d
shared with Alicen which had profoundly changed him.
Holding Liza’s babe had brought such a feeling of awe.
He glanced back at Alicen, mind racing. Could they
have conceived their own child last night? A little daughter
with her emerald eyes, or a son who’d grow tall and
strong? And would she wish to bear this child? He’d not
think of Estelle’s utmost sacrifice. Alicen valued life far
too much to ever consider taking his wife’s desperate
course.
The possibility of a babe reinforced his vow to return.
Surely, Alicen must know that. He ached to hold her and
kiss away her fears, but knew he could not. Nothing could
change the truth of his leaving.
“Would you saddle my horse for me, lad?” Jeremy
asked Ned.
“Certainly, sir!” The boy was on his feet and out the
cottage door almost before Jeremy could draw another
breath.
Alicen had just removed the pot from the fire. She
ladled food into the trenchers, ignoring him as he stepped
up behind to gently trap her against the table with his
body.
“I would speak with you, lass.”
Slamming the ladle onto the table with a bang, she
momentarily hung her head. “There’s naught to say.”
He grasped her shoulders, turning her to face him.
“Aye, there is much to say.”
Chin raised, she gave him her most indifferent look.
“If you’re leaving, then be quick about it.”
He saw her hurt expression, felt it shoot straight into
his heart. “I’ll return to you.”
“Every soldier who ever took up arms says just such,”
she scoffed in a husky voice. “’Tis a lie.”
He tried to embrace her, but she pushed away, and
he had the wisdom to let her go. She stormed back to the
hearth.
“I love you, Alicen.”
Her head snapped up at his quiet declaration, but
she kept her back turned to him. “Do you love me enough
to trust me?”
The words seared Jeremy’s already vulnerable soul.
“Lass, I—”
She spun to face him. “Don’t lie! You’ve not trusted
me from the beginning. I must know now whether you
still believe me capable of deceit and treachery.”
Could he conquer years of pain, layers of betrayal
that had thickened into a callus around his heart, keeping
tender thoughts out? He knew she’d not betray him. Yet
his mind warned that she still could hurt him.
“Until I have land and a title to offer you, how could
you ever truly love me?”
At his change of subject, Alicen abandoned convincing
him of her loyalty. His painful memories prevented him
from believing her. Better to let him resume his life—the
life of action he lived so well—than to reveal her heart,
shattering from losing his affection.
“I don’t require the finery you seem convinced I need,”
she said sadly. “But without trust, love can never flourish
between us.” And without your love, I shall perish. “Don’t
return, Jeremy,” she whispered, unable to meet his
intense gaze. “You’ll bring soldiers of death riding at your
back. Stay away. I never want you coming here again.”
His voice cracked when he replied, “I’m bound to,
lass. You know that.”
“And I’m bound to mend the havoc wrought by your
kind,” she retorted. “You’ll return with blood on your
hands and killing in your soul. Then the blood on my
hands will follow.” She raised trembling fingers to her
temples. “I’m so weary. Weary of war. Of death. Soldiers
leave. They never stay to right their wrongs. ’Tis left to
their victims to do so.”
“I mean to stay.”
“For what reason? You’ll lay this shire bare. What
would compel you to dwell here afterward?”
“You!” He clenched his fists. “You’ll scarce believe such
a promise, but I’ll have my land and with it freedom from
war.”
“Think you to keep that land without a struggle?”
Alicen cried. “You’ll fight until they bury you.”
He ground his teeth. “Then ‘twill be my land I fight
for, not some godforsaken piece of earth my king’s regent
covets!”
“Fighting is fighting, regardless of the object. Men die,
and the ground drinks blood. It will never cease.” She
visibly trembled. “I cannot condone what you do.”
“I’m not asking you to.”
Staring, they fell silent. The time for parting had come,
and Jeremy knew they could not break away without
inflicting more pain.
He moved first.. Jaw set, he strode to the infirmary to
pack his saddlebags. That done, he crossed the main
room, pausing with his hand on the door latch, aware of
Alicen aimlessly rearranging medicament jars. He
retrieved a heavy pouch from his cloak.
“William left money to pay for my care,” he growled,
turning to hold it out.
Her brows drew together. “I must refuse, Captain.
What services I performed were done as fealty
to my duke.”
Jeremy’s heart sank at her caustic use of his title, at
her coldness. He had laid his soul bare, yet she spurned
his love. He knew the heartless cruelty of his words, but
her rejection was riding him hard, and he couldn’t govern
his tongue. “Would you have left me to my fate had William
not pleaded for my life?”
“Nay,” she replied levelly, glaring at him. “I’ve never
left any man to die.”
He gestured to the bag, then sneered, “These coins
could go a long way to maintaining your beloved estate.”
He saw Alicen’s composure nearly break, but she raised
her chin proudly.
“Leave here. Never return.”
Her raw pain almost made him relent. Instead, he
tossed the pouch containing William’s money onto the
table.
Eyeing it with distaste, she scoffed, “To purchase care
for those you intend to maim? How charitable.”
Silent, he stalked out, slamming the door behind him.
Charon stood waiting, and Jeremy leaped astride. Horse
and rider were beyond the stable when Alicen appeared
on her doorstep.
Raising the pouch, she flung it at the retreating knight.
Her aim proved true. It struck him between the shoulders,
the coins scattering across the courtyard in a silver-gold
spray.
“You said you wouldn’t hurt me,” she choked out as
he rode away. “Then why does my heart feel like a lump
of iron beaten by a blacksmith? Why is pain all I know?”
Strangled by tears, she fled to her bedchamber.
***
Jeremy didn’t look back, didn’t flinch when the coins
struck. Just sat taller in his saddle.
You each have a duty, Kaitlyn O’ Rourke’s voice
whispered inside his head. Have you the courage
necessary to prevent those duties from destroying your
love?
He shook his head to clear it of the ghost’s words, but
was not successful.
Cursing himself for a heartless villain, Jeremy urged
Charon into a gallop and hastily put as much distance
between himself and his broken dreams as he could.
Twenty
The very air seemed to press down upon him.
Jeremy felt it like a tangible thing, a smothering
blanket of oppression which befit his despair. Since
leaving Landeyda, he had trained endlessly, ignoring with
grim silence all warnings that he risked another fever by
Carroll, Laurie - War Of Hearts.txt Page 31