Carroll, Laurie - War Of Hearts.txt

by War Of Hearts. txt (lit)

  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