Lady of Lyonsbridge

by Ana Seymour

  He shook his head, hardly believing his own words as he told her, “If you want to take three or four of your men—castle guards, not your servant and your chamberlain—you may ride with me as far as the castle. But you’ll not have contact with Dunstan in any way. When the money is delivered, you have to agree to turn around and ride straight back here. We can’t be entirely sure what Dunstan’s reaction will be when he discovers that he’s lost you.”

  “Fine,” she said quickly. “I agree.”

  Alyce’s smile was bright and held just enough triumph to make Thomas regret his capitulation. “You’ll do everything I say and not try any tricks,” he warned.

  “Aye, Thomas. I’ll be just like a good little soldier.”

  No longer hungry, he pushed away the trencher of breakfast and took a great swallow of ale instead. “It’s two days to Dunstan Castle. We’ll have to sleep out on the road tonight. I don’t want to risk stopping at an inn and having Dunstan get wind of our errand.”

  Her eyes sparkled. “I’d like that. It will make it more of an adventure.”

  Thomas shook his head. Aye, an adventure. It was beginning to feel as if he’d been on one long adventure ever since he’d first set eyes on the lady of Sherborne. “Pick your men, then. The best and the bravest. And make yourself ready. We ride tomorrow at dawn.”

  The Sherborne ancestor who had built Sherborne Castle more than a hundred years before, at the height of the problems between the Normans and the Saxons, had provided the stone walls, ramparts and moat of a true fortress. However, the estate was far from any city of note and off the main thoroughfares that crisscrossed the country. The residents of the small but imposing structure had never had to mount a defense. There were few visitors, friendly or otherwise.

  When Thomas had asked Alyce to bring three members of her castle guard, she hadn’t bothered to explain that the position was not one that would guarantee what Thomas would call “warriors.”

  She introduced them to him one by one. “This is Fredrick, grandson of my chamberlain, Alfred. And his cousin Hugh. And Hugh’s cousin, Guelph.”

  Thomas surveyed the trio with misgiving. “Don’t you men have swords?” he asked them.

  There was a general shaking of heads. “Bows, then?”

  Fredrick spoke for the group. “Oh, aye, sir. We’ll nab ye a rabbit at half a furlong. Guelph’s the best shot in the shire. I’m next. Hugh doesn’t see from his left eye, so he’s off the mark at times, but he’s strong.”

  Thomas sighed. “If there’s trouble, it will be more than rabbits you’ll be asked to shoot, lads. Do you understand that?”

  The three young men nodded solemnly. Thomas looked over at Alyce. She was dressed for the ride in a leather kirtle and jacket, but the thick garments in no way disguised the allure of her female figure. “I must be mad to allow you to go,” he told her.

  She made a little face. “You’re not allowing me to do anything, Sir Thomas. I’m mistress here, remember. And it’s my choice to accompany you on a mission that is of such import to my future.”

  Fredrick, a likable, eager lad of no more than twenty years, bobbed his head and added his own words on his mistress’s behalf. “Ye might as well stop trying to fight it, Sir Thomas. Lady Alyce has always been one to have things her way.” He sent a smile of apology to Alyce. “Beggin’ yer pardon, milady. ’Tis not meant as criticism. The people of Sherborne would not have things any different.”

  Alyce laughed. “If you’re worried that you’ll hurt my feelings by telling Sir Thomas that I’ve been spoiled these past twenty years, have no fear. ’Tis nothing but the truth. I’ve been greatly blessed to be raised in this place, among so many kind friends.” Her fond smile included all three of the chosen guards. “And I want nothing more than to put all this wedding nonsense behind me so that I can return to Sherborne and live out the rest of my life in the same privileged fashion.”

  “Amen to that, milady,” Fredrick agreed.

  Still surveying the three men with a doubtful expression, Thomas asked them, “Do you have mounts?”

  “Aye, sir. Hugh rides in between the two of us, since he only sees on the one side.”

  Thomas rolled his eyes and turned to Alyce. “You are determined to do this thing?”

  Her eyes dancing with excitement, she gave a firm nod.

  With a shrug of resignation, Thomas started toward his horse without waiting to help Alyce to mount. “Come on, then,” he said. “We’ve a hard ride ahead.”

  The adventure did not seem quite as exciting to Alyce by the time Thomas pulled off the road at a thick stretch of forest and proclaimed that they could finally stop for the night. They’d been riding almost nonstop since just after dawn, and Alyce felt as if every bone in her body had been jarred into an unaccustomed position.

  It was already dark, but a nearly full moon had risen in the late afternoon to keep the landscape illuminated.

  This time Thomas came over to help her dismount. “I’ll have to admit it, Alyce Rose. You are one tough little lady.”

  She slid into his arms. He caught her, then set her on the ground and released her immediately without comment. “I told you that first day that Alyce could ride every bit as well as Rose,” she said with a tired smile.

  “I had no doubts about the riding. ’Tis the stamina that’s impressed me. I expected you to head back to Sherborne by midday.”

  Alyce frowned. “Did you now? And is that why you kept pushing us to ride hour after hour when I’d understood that Dunstan is an easy two days’ ride from Sherborne?”

  He gave a rueful nod of admission.

  “You were trying to get rid of me?”

  Thomas reached out a finger to wipe a smudge of dirt off her cheek. “Ah, my fair Alyce, the last thing I want is to be rid of you. But I’m not thrilled to have you with me on this particular journey. You don’t know what kind of man Dunstan is.”

  She tossed her head. “Well, your plan didn’t succeed. I’m still here. And now I trust we can sleep late in the morning, since we’ll be only a short day’s ride from the castle.”

  “Sleep as late as you like, milady, if the noise of the jackdaws cackling doesn’t awaken you. Have you ever slept outside before?”

  She shook her head. Fredrick and the two cousins had taken all the horses to tie them up for the night. She stood alone with Thomas. Her knees were so shaky from the long hours of riding that she was afraid to move, but she would not admit it.

  He saved her pride by taking her arm in a steadying grasp. “Allow me to escort you to your quarters, milady,” he said with mock formality.

  She gave him a grateful smile. Trying not to look wobbly, she let him lead her down a gentle slope to a small clearing well away from the road. Alyce looked around curiously. “Do we just drop down on the dirt and go to sleep?”

  He smiled. “I’ve been known to do exactly that when on the march, but no. We’ll fashion you a bed of sorts. After we pick a place, I’ll fetch some blankets from the horses.”

  They found a spot that looked more or less level, and Alyce sank gratefully to the ground to wait as Thomas made his way back to the horses. She’d almost fallen asleep sitting up when he returned, carrying an armload of blankets.

  “These should keep you comfortable and warm,” he said, dropping the pile in front of her.

  She looked behind him. “Where are the others?”

  “They’ll bed down at three different points along the road. If anyone comes, they should wake and be able to alert the others of any possible danger.”

  “No one ever travels these back roads at night.”

  “Aye, that’s precisely the problem. If anyone should come along, it’s probably someone up to mischief.”

  All at once Alyce realized that for the first time in her life, she was about to spend the night with a strange man, alone and unchaperoned. She looked up at his big form looming above her in the moonlight. She wasn’t afraid of him, but she was uneasy. Suddenly it became clea
r why Lettie had been so opposed to this journey.

  Her mouth dry, she stood and began to shake out the blankets. “Shall I make up my bed right here?” she asked him.

  “Aye. ’Tis as good a place as any.”

  She tossed one of the blankets over the grass, then, with a moment of hesitation, offered him the next. “Where will your bed be?”

  She’d tried to make her voice sound casual, but she had the feeling that he could sense her nervousness. “I’ll not need a bed this night. I intend to sit up and keep watch over a certain little Rose.”

  “Surely not! You agreed that there are few travelers here. I can’t believe you need to stay awake.”

  “I don’t mind. In battle you get used to going many days with little sleep. And I’ll be having a much more pleasant sight to contemplate during my night’s vigil than I ever did on the Crusades.”

  She blushed. Somehow the thought of him watching her as she lay sleeping seemed incredibly intimate. “If I hadn’t insisted on coming, you’d have been able to sleep tonight.”

  “Aye, but I’d not have had your sweet company.” His voice held no hint of reproach.

  She pulled the blankets around her and lay back with a sigh. “You are a special man, Thomas of Havilland. You’ve been forgiving and patient and honest with me in every way.”

  It was too dark to see the small frown that came over his face at her words. “Sleep now, Alyce Rose. Dawn will be upon us before you know it.”

  The ground was cold and hard, and Alyce thought that it would be hours before she’d drift into an exhausted sleep, but he repeated the words, softly, with his mellow balladeer’s voice. “Go to sleep, fair Rose…” And before he had finished saying her name, she had dozed off.

  Thomas laid his head against the hard trunk of a tree. He had no desire to sleep. Long days on the march had taught him to put his body into a kind of resting state as he swayed along to his horse’s gait. It felt good to be sitting still for a while, but he didn’t feel noticeably tired.

  Even if he had been tired, he reckoned that he might be too restless for sleep. His thoughts were racing—first to the task ahead of them tomorrow and then back to the woman who lay in peaceful slumber not two yards distant.

  Her last words to him had been touchingly trusting, and it was a trust he did not fully deserve. Though he was not trying to deceive her or take advantage of her as had the men who’d visited her since her father’s death, he had lied to her. He hadn’t told her about his history with Dunstan. He hadn’t even told her his real name.

  Of course, he reminded himself, she’d lied to him about her name, too. So perhaps they were even. When he’d accomplished his mission and freed Richard, he would come back to Sherborne and tell her of Lyonsbridge. He’d tell her of his Saxon grandfather, Connor, who had forged a peace between Norman and Saxon at the great estate many years ago by winning the love of the Norman beauty, Ellen of Wakefield.

  It had been Connor who had taught Thomas to play the lute. Big, bold Connor, who had won many battles by his brawn, but had made his most important conquest with his music, his charm and, ultimately, his love. Connor and Ellen had ruled over a peaceful Lyonsbridge for many years, their love a fierce bond that would allow no Norman-Saxon rivalry to threaten their happiness.

  Thomas felt a pang of homesickness. He missed his grandparents. He believed them to be well, since he had heard no news to the contrary. But they had both passed fourscore years. He knew he didn’t have too many more years to enjoy their company. That was one of the most pressing reasons he wanted to be done with this mission. He wanted to resume a peaceful life back at Lyons-bridge. More and more he’d come to realize that the life he envisioned there for himself now included a troublesome blue-eyed imp named Alyce Rose.

  What would his grandparents think of her? he wondered. Grandfather Connor would say that she was beautiful, much like his Ellen. And Grandmother Ellen would say that she was impudent and independent and stubborn, very much like herself.

  He could almost see them, nodding approval and sharing that special gaze they always seemed to have just for each other. Suddenly he wanted to wake Alyce up and tell her all about them and all about Lyonsbridge. He wanted to tell her his real name and explain how he’d had to work in secret so that Prince John would not discover their progress in freeing his brother.

  He let his head fall back against the tree with a thump. Of course, he could do no such thing. It would not only put his men at risk, but Alyce, as well. If Richard never returned to England, everyone who worked on his behalf or who had knowledge of those efforts could be accused of treason.

  No, Thomas would have to continue to keep his secrets from her for a while longer. But when the ransom was paid…when Richard returned…He looked over at her sleeping form. She’d turned, and he could see her face in the moonlight.

  No, we’ve not been honest with each other, he told her silently. But soon, my fair Alyce Rose, there will be no more need for secrets between us.

  The dreams had come again. The guards were dragging her down the aisle of a church toward a giant of a man, clad in silver armor that hid his face. As she approached, she realized that the altar at the front of the church had been replaced by a huge yellow moon, and it was dripping with drops of dark red blood…

  She fought against the arms holding her, thrashing about with all her strength.

  “Sweetheart, calm yourself.”

  Gradually she recognized Thomas’s urgent whisper. She stopped struggling. It was no hostile guard holding her, but Thomas himself. Her heartbeat slowed, and she opened her eyes to find his face inches above hers, his eyes worried.

  “It’s just a dream,” she said, her voice hoarse. “They come every now and then.”

  He pulled her more firmly into his arms. “What dreams are these, my little Rose?”

  She shook her head. “’Tis nothing. I never had a bad dream in my life while my father lived. They started after the first visit from Dunstan’s men.”

  “By tomorrow, you’ll be free of that man. There will be no cause for the dreams to come after that.”

  She shuddered. “Aye,” she answered slowly. “It’s just that…”

  He brushed her forehead with his lips and whispered, “Just that what?”

  “You’ll think me foolish.”

  “Nay, tell me.”

  The warmth of his arms cuddling her made her feel so safe that she felt foolish at voicing the thought. “It’s old Maeve. She did say that I would be forced to marry against my will.”

  “She also said that the moon would turn to blood, or some such nonsense, as I recollect. Sweetheart, you can’t let the ravings of an old woman upset you.”

  “’Tis only that Maeve’s ravings, as you call them, usually turn out to be true.”

  Thomas smiled. “This time they won’t. Tomorrow we deliver the tax to Dunstan Castle and that’s the last you ever have to even think about Baron Dunstan.”

  Alyce began to be aware that she was sitting on Thomas’s thighs, her legs stretched out alongside his. There was pressure from his forearm against one of her breasts. The position was highly improper, but she made no move to shift away from him. In fact, she compounded the impropriety by letting her head drop onto his shoulder. “I hope so. I’ve heard enough monstrous tales of Philip of Dunstan to last me a lifetime.”

  For a moment neither said anything. Alyce closed her eyes and let herself enjoy the warmth their bodies generated against the frigid night air. She was wrapped in a blanket, as well as his arms, but Thomas had no covering. “Here,” she said, tugging the blanket from around her. “You should have some of this, too. It’s grown dreadfully cold.”

  Thomas laughed, but loosened his hold enough to allow her to drape the blanket around both their shoulders. “I hadn’t noticed,” he said dryly. “At least not in these past few minutes.”

  “Aye, it’s much warmer with two, isn’t it?”

  “Aye.” His voice was mild, but behind th
e simple word she sensed a careful restraint. He made no move to do anything more than hold her.

  “Are we near dawn?” she asked. “I don’t think I’ve ever been outside at such an hour.”

  He looked up at the sky. The inky blackness had faded, but it was still possible to see a smattering of stars. “There’s time yet. Do you think you could fall back to sleep?”

  “Nay. This is much nicer, sitting here with you. Unless your arms are tired?”

  “My arms are not the problem, sweetheart.”

  Misunderstanding him, she wriggled, trying to relieve him of her weight. The effort only elicited a groan from him.

  “I should get up,” she said at once. “I’m too heavy to be cradled like a babe.”

  “You’re not heavy,” Thomas murmured. “But it’s very clear that I hold in my arms a woman grown, not a babe.”

  This time she caught the unmistakable note in his voice. She pulled back a little to gaze directly into his eyes. Her lips parted slightly, of their own accord. She held in a breath.

  Then he turned her slightly in his arms, lowered his head and kissed her.

  Chapter Seven

  Thomas had been fighting his desire all day long as she rode beside him, straight and proud in the saddle, and then throughout the night as he watched her relaxed in sleep. It was foolhardy and wrong, but, by the rood, he could no longer help himself. He promised it would be no more than a kiss, but the instant their lips touched, all rational thought fled.

  She appeared to have no objection to his caresses. She wound her arms around him and allowed their bodies to come together in an intimate intertwining, as if seeking the greatest possible contact. His mouth stayed joined with hers as they ended up lying on the ground, Alyce underneath and Thomas on top, touching from feet to chest. He continued to drink kisses from her mouth, one after another, deep and then light, until he felt quite drunk from them.