Vow of Seduction

by Angela Johnson

  Alex smiled and placed her hand on his arm. A shock of recognition quivered up her arm, but she valiantly ignored it.

  “I guess a romantic moonlit stroll in the garden will have to be postponed,” he said, and then led her to the center of the hall.

  The musicians played a few notes while couples paired up across from each other. To the left of Kat was an older knight with a large paunch. Across from him, next to Alex, was Lady Lynette, damsel-in-waiting to Queen Eleanor. She was a beautiful, petite brunette with an infectious grin, which she turned on Alex.

  The music began in earnest. Alex bowed before Kat and held out his hand, she swayed and laid her hand in his.

  Then she stared into his eyes, drowning in midnight haze.

  The dark depths glinted with some emotion, before dropping to gaze at her bodice, her waist and down her hips. Sizzling heat ignited everywhere his eyes traced, and then swept up into her face, albeit for a different reason. A carnal gleam lit his eyes, his every desire revealed in that one, unguarded glimpse. Alex wanted her. Completely. Unequivocally.

  A shiver ran down Kat’s spine. Fear? Excitement? Anticipation? Unease, aye, that was what she felt. At least that was what she told herself as Alex guided her flawlessly through the sensual dance.

  Kat had eluded him again. One moment he was speaking with Rand and Lady Elena, while keeping a proprietary eye on his wife, who was dancing with her besotted admirers. Then he had looked away briefly at some jest of Elena’s and when he turned back, Kat was gone. He had searched for her throughout the palace with no luck, which left only one other place he could think to look.

  As he exited the castle, Alex nodded to a black-garbed knight, took the steps down into the courtyard and continued on his way. The moon guided him to the stable, the cool night air bracing. It had ever been Kat’s way to seek refuge with her horse when distressed. It surprised him to realize that they were similar in that regard. It made him wonder in what other ways might they be of like mind?

  For so long, prior to his wedding, he had bemoaned the marriage pact his parents had made with Kat’s father when Alex was just a boy. He had been a virile young man and she was not his ideal of what he wanted in a woman. Not that she ever acted like a young lady. Her father let her roam wild, teaching her skills in arms and educating her as a man, and she had even dressed like one. Alex smiled in remembrance.

  Although now he could look back with fondness, at the time he had resented her and the duty he owed his family that bade him enter into a marriage not of his choice. From birth, his father lectured him on the importance of duty, first to God, then to king, and lastly to family. Because he learned the lesson well, he was not able to marry the woman he loved, Lady Lydia St. John.

  The vast whitewashed stable loomed up ahead in the moonlight. Not a creature stirred outside. He caught a whiff of wood smoke, straw, and manure on the air. Slowing his pace, he crept on silent feet, wanting the element of surprise should he find Kat. He stopped outside the stable doors, his thoughts returning to the past and Lydia.

  He had realized long ago that the only woman he would ever love was lost to him. But it was not memories of Lydia that had kept him sane during the grueling years he suffered in slavery. His homecoming would not be complete until Kat accepted him with her whole heart. Failure was not acceptable, so, shaking himself free of his reverie, Alex entered the vast building without a sound.

  The main corridor was long and wide, with stalls on either side. A shorter, narrower walkway intersected the main one so the building had four exits. Several tack rooms—needed to house supplies, equipment and fodder for scores of horses—bordered this smaller aisle.

  He had already discovered where Kat quartered her gray mare and was not surprised when he heard a low murmur coming from that direction. He headed straight for Lightning’s stall. A beam of moonlight entering from a high, round window lit his path.

  Silence now pervaded the stable except the occasional snort and rustling of horses. Alex patted Lightning’s head and peered over the closed stall door into the shadows. “Hello there, girl.”

  He saw a slight movement at the back of the stall, a darker shadow than the rest. “Reveal yourself, Kat. I know you’re there.”

  Kat froze in shock, unable to believe this turn of events. How did Alex know to find her in the stable? And what had warned him of her presence?

  Alex opened the stall door. “You may as well come out. I can see you.”

  This puzzled her, for his back remained to her. She started to take a step forward when a small, shaky voice reached her. “’Tis I, milord. Matthew of Oxford.”

  Hay shuffled and the dark-haired lad emerged from the back of the stall.

  “Matthew of Oxford,” Alex said with considerable surprise. “What do you here? I thought you were—never mind, obviously, I was wrong.” He chuckled.

  Kat nearly sighed with relief, but remained quiet and still. She did not want to alert Alex to her presence behind him near the tack rooms.

  “What are you doing with her ladyship’s horse? Should you not be about your duties, son?” he asked, his voice gentle and calm.

  “Nay, sir. The steward released me from my duties for the eve. Lady Katherine said I might visit her horse whenever I wished,” the boy answered, an anxious tremor in his voice.

  “Ahh, and you thought to visit the horses before you retire.” Alex entered the stall. “I must compliment you on your judge of horseflesh, Matthew. Lightning is a rare breed; she is beautiful, intelligent and spirited.” He paused and then said, as though musing to himself, “Just like her mistress,” and ran his hand down the mare’s graceful neck.

  Kat’s neck tingled, feeling the caress almost as if he stroked her instead, and warmth spread throughout her. Touched by his unexpected words, she tried to fight the emotion. “Lightning is beautiful,” Matthew piped up. “But Kat is much prettier.”

  Alex laughed. “Aye, young Matthew. I must agree with you and bow to your greater wisdom in this matter. But how is it you come to know my lady?” he asked, his tone kind and fatherly.

  Her heart turned over. For the first time, she imagined Alex as the father of the child she desperately wanted. As now, he would be strong, yet kind, patient, and caring of the child’s needs.

  “She rescued me from some mean boys yesterday. She gave me leave to call her Kat,” he piped up.

  Alex had turned slightly towards Kat. She watched as his smile turned rueful. “’Tis a great compliment that she would entrust the care of her mare to you. She must consider you a very special friend, indeed.”

  “Are you her special friend, too, my lord?”

  Kat held her breath as she waited for his answer.

  “We were friends once, long ago. But much has happened since. Even so, I would hope she still counted me as her friend.”

  Emotion rose in her throat and she pressed a hand to her mouth. Aye, they had been friends once, and antagonists, and finally lovers upon their marriage. Then he had destroyed their chance for happiness by running away. She no longer trusted her judgment where he was concerned, so friendship was out of the question, too.

  Matthew peeped up. “Kat said Lightning was a gift from her father-in-law. I wish I had a father-in-law to gift me such a horse.”

  Alex laughed. “Mayhap someday you will.” He grinned as mischievous as a little boy. “Can you keep a secret, Matthew?”

  The boy’s dark eyes grew wide. “A secret? Aye, sir, I can keep my mouth shut.”

  “The horse was a gift from me, actually. The moment Lightning was foaled, I knew she was destined for Kat. I thought it best she think the horse was from my father, though.”

  Kat’s heart skipped a beat or two. She did not know what to think. No gift could have pleased her more. Alex had cared for her and given her something very precious. She started to step forward, and then caught herself, clutching the wooden wall. A sliver of wood thrust beneath the skin of her thumb and nearly made her gasp out.

 
Fool, she swore to herself, sucking her sore digit. How could she forget for a single moment the unbearable anguish and despair Alex caused her when he deserted her the day after their marriage? No gift, or his kindness to the boy, could ever make up for his betrayal.

  Careful not to make a sound, Kat pushed away from the wall. She took several steps backward, keeping her eye on Alex, when her foot came down on a hard, sharp object. She cried out, a short yelp of pain quickly cut off. But it was too late.

  Alex reached for his sword and peered towards her in the shadows. “Who goes there?”

  Not waiting a moment to think, Kat picked up her skirts and ran. She had never been a coward in her life, but every good commander knew when it was time to stand and fight, and when it was time to retreat. So she ran and ran, with no idea where she was heading, her delicate slippers a flimsy barrier as her feet padded over the hard ground. When a sharp pain pierced her side, she clutched it with her hand. But she kept going until, unexpectedly, she found herself in the quiet and secluded Sanctuary Garden.

  Short of breath, a hand to her aching side, Kat looked around at the scenery. The garden consisted of sculpted yew hedges above head height, which provided hidden alcoves for private contemplation. That was during the daylight hours. Unfortunately, some of the more base at court met and held illicit assignations here, also. Uncomfortable with the notion she might stumble into an embarrassing situation, she turned to leave.

  The dark silhouette of a man rose up from the bench in a corner alcove. Kat gasped. He loomed over her, blocking the exit.

  “Who goes there?” she demanded, vaguely aware she mimicked her husband’s last words.

  Chapter 9

  A man stepped out of the shadows, his golden hair shimmering silver in the moonlight.

  “God be praised,” Kat exclaimed. “You scared me, Luc. But glad I am ’tis you.”

  He smiled, revealing the dimple in his left cheek. “’Tis glad I am you are glad to see me.”

  “I thought—never mind, ’tis of no import.”

  She could not explain to Luc that she had thought he was Alex. That Alex had caught her spying and now she was hiding from him. But she was being ridiculous; Luc was already sitting in the garden when she arrived. That thought gave her pause.

  “What are you doing here, Luc?”

  His gleaming smile turned rueful. “The same as you, I would imagine. I needed a moment alone with my thoughts.”

  Kat tucked a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. Suddenly, the motion stroked her memory, of the other night when Alex had done the same to her hair—his fingers, his breath, his scent filled her, tantalized her, terrified her.

  Nay, be gone, her mind protested against the memory. She would not let Alex destroy her again.

  Luc jerked as though he had received a blow and his dimpled smile faltered. “Forgive me,” he said, his gaze hurt. “I shall go forthwith and disturb you no longer as you demand.”

  God forfend, she thought, did I say that aloud?

  Kat reached out to stay him, but dropped her arm. “Nay, Luc, you have naught to beg forgiveness for. You misunderstand. I am the one who should go. Alex will not be best pleased if he should learn we were alone.”

  Sir Luc stepped in her path. “Prithee, my love, do not go yet.” His look of yearning was painful to bear. “I know this is awkward for you. But we were interrupted earlier before I had a chance to talk to you about your husband’s return.”

  “Luc, I…I have no idea what to say.” Kat dropped her gaze to her clenched fingers, unable to look at him any longer.

  Sir Luc’s fingers brushed her cheek. Startled, her head shot up to meet his stare again.

  “It seems we are in accord, as usual,” he said, his mouth twisted bitterly. “For I find that no words can begin to express what I am feeling at the moment.” He paused, the deep emotion in his golden eyes unguarded. “Although ’tis a sin to think it,” he continued in a tortured voice, “I cannot help but wish Alex had died and never returned.”

  At his impassioned confession, guilt twisted tighter inside Kat. “Nay, Luc. You don’t truly mean it.”

  “Do I not?” he asked doubtfully, as though to himself. He shook his head. “But I did not want to speak to you so that I might unburden my soul. I want to make sure you’re all right. It must have been a great shock to you when Sir Alex marched into the chapel very much alive.”

  Kat paced away and stopped before the bench, then spun back to Luc. The night air suddenly cool, she crossed her arms over her chest and rubbed her upper arms with both hands. “Aye. ’Tis very confusing. I still find it difficult to comprehend that I am not and never have been a widow.” Kat took a deep breath. “But what I regret the most is that you have been hurt, Luc,” she said, her voice tinged with sorrow.

  Sir Luc closed the gap between them and braced his hands on her shoulders. “I pray you, do not apologize. For no matter that your husband has returned to claim you, I regret not one moment of loving you.”

  “But you deserve none of this. You have been naught but kind and good to me. ’Tis so unfair.”

  “Promise me one thing?”

  “Of course, if I can.”

  “Though I would never dare to interfere between you and Sir Alex, I want you to come to me should you ever need aught or are in trouble.”

  Kat reached out and touched his arm, saying softly, “Thank you, Luc. I appreciate your concern. Your friendship is invaluable to me. Never have you betrayed my trust.” Her voice quavered, “I wish—”

  Luc drew closer, his gaze intent, a feral gold light in his eyes. “Tell me. What do you wish?”

  “Oh, it matters not what I wish now.” She shook her head and drew away, aware of the danger being alone with Luc presented. She could not give him false hope until her bargain with Alex was complete and her marriage severed. “I am sorry. I must go.”

  She made to leave, but Luc caught her arm and pressed close against her. His other hand cupped her cheek and his fervent gaze dipped to her lips. A ripple of unease shot through Kat; she tensed, prepared to draw away.

  “Unhand my wife, knave.” A primordial growl erupted in the garden and a dark shape charged out of the shadows.

  Knocked roughly aside, Kat careened into the bench. Her knee scraped the stone, but she clutched the seat to stop her fall. She turned and saw Alex hovering over Sir Luc, who had landed on the ground. A snarl on his face, Alex pressed his sword against Luc’s throat.

  Kat jumped between the two men. Her heart pounded erratically. “Alex. Put down your sword.”

  Alex tugged her away and glared at her over his shoulder. “You dare to command me when I caught you in his arms?” His furious gaze shot back to Sir Luc.

  Undeterred, she pressed between them again and forced Alex to meet her gaze. “I was leaving the garden. You must believe me.” Beneath her staying hand, his heartbeat was strong and vital, his chest muscles rigid, immovable.

  Sir Luc spoke then, his voice stilted. “Sir Alex. She speaks true. When she meant to leave, I stopped her. Don’t blame Kat. I am the one at fault.”

  Alex lifted his lip in a snarl. “Aye, you are.” He pressed his sword closer, the tip drawing a bead of blood. “Touch my wife again, and I will kill you. I owe you a debt for saving my life in the Holy Land, but do not challenge me in this.”

  Luc nodded stiffly. Alex stepped away, sheathing his sword. Kat breathed a sigh of relief and wiped her sweaty palms on her skirts.

  When Luc stood up, he tugged his tunic down and turned to Kat. “I humbly beg your pardon, Kat. I should not have put you in a compromising position. I lost my head. Forgive me.” He bowed to her stiffly, unsmiling, and left the garden.

  Kat watched Luc depart, her jaw clenched. Now that the danger had passed, fury welled up inside her and her face flushed. What right did Alex have to interfere? Overbearing and arrogant, he acted as if he had some say in ordering her life. She could not wait until their bargain was complete and she was finally free of
his domineering personality.

  “Do not turn your back on me,” Alex’s voice thundered in the suddenly quiet garden.

  Before Kat could turn, Alex gripped her upper arm and yanked her around to face him. His eyes black with rage, he demanded, “I want the truth. Do not lie to me! Did you or did you not encourage him to touch you? To kiss you?”

  Kat gasped, startled. “Nay. How can you believe such a thing of me?”

  “The man was your lover,” he said, incredulous, contempt blazing in his eyes. “And I caught you in his arms. What else am I to believe?”

  She raised her chin in offended pride. “That I am a woman of honor. That I would never forsake my marriage vows and betray you.”

  “Why?” he shot back. “You despise me. Luc is the man you want to marry. So why should I believe you? Give me one good reason,” his voice cut sharp as glass.

  “Because I never—”

  He gripped her chin and forced her to look him in the eye. “What? What were you going to say?”

  “You are mistaken. I meant naught.”

  He shook her, then wrapped an arm around her and pressed her to his hard, unyielding body. “You lie. Answer me. What were you going to say?” His voice was cold and implacable.

  Trapped against his body, Kat stared into eyes that glittered like ice crystals. “Answer me, Kat. Why should I trust you?”

  Kat trembled. This was not the same Alex she grew up with. He was a stranger to her now, unpredictable and quite possibly savage. This man scared her, kept her off balance.

  “Because I never—” her voice cracked. She licked her lips.

  Alex tightened his hold. He cupped her jaw and rubbed his thumb over her lower lip possessively.

  A shiver raced down her spine and her breasts swelled, becoming aroused.

  “Never what?” he coaxed with a seductive purr, though underneath ran a dangerous current.

  “Never slept with Sir Luc,” she blurted, her tongue loosened at last.