The Everlasting Covenant

by Robyn Carr

  Anne’s heart felt as though it would break. Your son, she wanted to cry. I married the earl to protect your son. But the temptation passed quickly. She had made an oath to bring Sloan into manhood with all the greatest of care, no matter what the personal cost. “I am with child now,” she said quietly.

  She noticed a flicker of emotion, and what might have been pain, cross his eyes. He looked at her midsection, then her eyes. The pregnancy did not show.

  “It is early,” she said, her hand going to her middle. “Do you have children, Dylan?” she asked.

  “No. I have not done so well as you.”

  Anne began to tremble inside. Dylan’s beautiful eyes held her. What was it? There was a hardness shining there that had never been there before – impatience and forced maturity. The boyish twinkle and the playful light were gone. Without even realizing it, she was examining the rest of his body, looking at his arms, hands, shoulders, thighs, ankles, feet, in much the same way she examined her husband when he returned from battle. Dylan was thicker abreast, his muscles more developed. There were lines creasing his forehead, smaller wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. He was still the handsomest man in the world, but he had aged. He looked older than he was. He smiled at her, having caught her studying him. His teeth gleamed white and straight and his eyes crinkled at the corners.

  “Oh, I am whole, though it was quite a contest, the past few years.”

  “Will you tell me about it?”

  “Only if you will tell me about your suffering over the past few years.” He shot to his feet. He did not understand his own sudden anger – he had meant to hold her in his arms, comfort her, not lash out at her. But his anger was roused by the mere fact that she needed no comfort – she had thrived while he was in agony still. He began to pace. “Will your tirewoman tell your husband that we have met?”

  “Jane? No, Jane is the most faithful in the--”

  “Was there any misfortune over the cask room? He did not turn you away?”

  She stared at his profile. He did not face her and she did not understand his hostility. “Misfortune?” she echoed. “Nay, as you can see, he did not turn me away. He believed some terrible half-truth and has always pampered me as if I am the purest--”

  He whirled, facing her so abruptly that her answer was cut short. “I expected he would keep you safe ... and well fixed. I can see that all my worry was in vain. I half feared ... half hoped ... Ah! You have not changed, Anne. I have. I am greatly changed.”

  “Dylan, I too worried,” she said. “You must believe that. But every day I was grateful that you had survived, escaped the rope ...”

  “Flee with me now,” he implored in a strained whisper. She stared at him in astonishment. “You said that if you could recall the moment, you would not hesitate. We can walk out of this house together, go by horse to Portsmouth and be in France in less than a week.”

  “Leave my son?” she whispered.

  “Do you doubt the earl could raise him well? I would take this one you carry--come with me.”

  Anne nearly laughed aloud at the irony. If she did as he asked, she would be leaving Dylan’s son with Brennan only to take Brennan’s child to Dylan. She shook her head, a slight puff of laughter escaping her in spite of herself. “Do you know what you ask?” She stared at him; she saw his desperation. “Dylan, you are also married now.”

  “Aye. You said you would be my wife or my mistress – you would only be with me. Are our marriages any more of a hindrance than our parents were? Then a war was? Here is the moment, Anne. Come away with me.”

  “You have not recalled the moment, Dylan. I am married to a man who owns ten thousand men. You have wed close to the crown. How far do you think we could run?”

  “Indeed, it is a mean life, and I have already lived it. Of course, my circumstances were very different. I was grateful to have life at all ... and you ... it appears your life has not been terribly difficult.”

  “You are angry ... with me?”

  “Anne, I ...”

  “What is it you wish to hear? That I lived in poverty and danger, as you did? That I will abandon my child and run with you now and enjoy that life? Once you only wanted me to live, to be safe. What has happened to you?”

  “Tell me then,” he said gruffly. “Tell me that you’ve made your life over ... that you will endure your earl’s wealth and devotion and--”

  Anne stood, tears coming to her eyes. She stared at him for a long moment. He silently allowed this, but his breathing was labored. “I have endured, Dylan, and not in poverty. As far as gowns and jewels are concerned, there has been nothing lacking. And yes, my son and this child a-borning will have all of me until they are grown. I am sorry for all you have been through.”

  She turned away from him as if to leave, but before she had taken a step, he grabbed her hand. “Anne,” he said in a breath.

  “Please do not touch me,” she whispered, a slight catch in her voice.

  He pulled her into his embrace. She saw that tears wet his cheeks. “I have hurt so much without you!”

  “Dylan, you must not touch--”

  His lips covered hers and his arms encircled her. For a moment she suffered only surprise, but then quickly her memory was tossed and turned and all the desire and pain and desperation was like a vision behind her closed eyes. She moaned, almost a sob, and held him fast, her fingers locked together behind his head. She did not know if she kissed a memory or a man, but she let herself consume him even as she was consumed.

  “Anne, my God,” he groaned. “My love, my life. I have hurt so much without you. I have loved you. ... A day never ended that I did not beg God Almighty for one chance to hold you, to tell you ...”

  “Oh, Dylan,” she cried, her fingers tenderly touching his face, his hair, as if to be assured he was real. “I have prayed for your safety every day and every night. You must believe--”

  “Anne, my Anne, I did not wish to hurt you. It is my own hurt that lashes out at you. How I longed to give you what he has given you--riches, children, love ... I love you ... I love you so ... It has never changed.”

  “But it is more impossible than ever ... Dylan. ...”

  Before she could finish, before she could tell him all the reasons forbidding such emotion, such action, she welcomed his lips again, and again. Their kisses were wet with tears of joy and longing, their fingers greedily touching as if they might never touch again. The hunger had never waned. To be in his arms was like a miracle, to taste his mouth again was the answer to all her prayers.

  “We are not meant to have each other, Dylan,” she whispered.

  His lips were hot and insistent on her neck. His hands crept under her cloak to pull her closer, to caress the rich sarcenet of her gown. “I cannot accept that, Anne. I have never accepted it, though I tried.”

  All time was lost for Anne. His hands on her again, his lips on hers, and she forgot where she was, who she was. Her fingers caressed his chest, his back. Over and over she sobbed his name, clung to him first in sheer relief that he was well, whole, alive, and then in passion both remembered and renewed. She forgot her lordly husband and her son.

  Dylan lifted her into his arms, his lips holding hers. Against her open mouth he murmured, “Once more, my Anne. If you cannot come away with me, love me once more.”

  “Dylan ... your man ... Jane ...”

  “Markham? He was instructed to keep any servant attending you occupied.”

  “Does he know about us, then?” she asked.

  “No. Nor will he ever inquire.”

  She shook her head, but he carried her to the stairs despite her wordless protest. The longing was as intense as ever. When she found herself in a second story bedchamber, she tried futilely to deny him, but his lips instead left her begging him to love her. She was famished for him, there was no stopping the waves of desire that overcame all good sense.

  Dylan’s life had been day-to-day, a constant struggle just for bread and wine, and throug
h the tedious days and lonely nights he had thought of Anne Daily. Sometimes hourly It was difficult to keep this haunting desire secret. He had not told even Cameron. And other women could not draw his mind away from her. In his own strange way he was faithful to her memory, for he could not find satisfaction anywhere else. For her sake, if not for his own, he begged for release from this binding, everlasting love. It was as terrible as it was wonderful. But there had been no release.

  Anne, too, had wished to be released from the torment of wanting him, trying futilely to accept her good fortune without longing for another, but it failed her. She had missed him as much in her luxury as he had missed her in his deprivation.

  “Anne,” he murmured. “Anne, I need you. The pain of wanting you is greater and stronger than I am. I want to come home to you.”

  “My love,” she whispered in response.

  There were only two rooms of state on the second floor of the small house. Jane was far away in the cookrooms behind the house. In less than an hour of her arrival Anne lay back on his bed, her eyes closed, and welcomed his touch, his lips. She did not think of her adultery, nor of how fleeting this moment would be. She thought only of the way he brought life back to a part of her she had thought long dead. She responded naturally, just as she had on those desperate nights so long ago.

  It was the greatest luxury in the world, a down-filled mattress on a tester bed beneath them and their bodies together again after so long. The bolt on the door was in place, and there was no hanging scaffold in the courtyard. The pleasure that Anne had been lacking in her marriage and that Dylan had been unable to find in any quarter was swift and hot and pure. It was unlike those times in the past when they were so afraid, so tortured. Dylan was conscious of her delicate condition and was gentle, even in his haste, but the ecstasy was not lessened. His warm breath on her flesh, his roughened hands on her skin, his scent, the salty taste of his skin, all senses were sharpened to take him in. These were the things she had struggled to remember, but had been unable to retrieve. In his arms again, she was filled with a sense of being where she belonged. It was as if she had been born in his embrace, and was not quite alive without him. When she felt him moving inside her again it was like coming home for her as well – as if it had always been thus, and always should be.

  The rapture came so quickly that they lay spent, entwined in each other’s arms soon after Dylan had thrown the bolt on the bedchamber door. What Brennan had failed to bring her in almost five years, Dylan had commanded from her body in as many minutes. So right--so wrong. A low moan of despair left her and she wept.

  “Anne ...,” he comforted.

  “He will not have an adulteress, Dylan. If forcing me to flee with you is your heart’s desire, you can have it now. All you need do is expose me as the wanton I am and he will cast me aside.”

  He brushed the dark hair from her brow. “I want to love you, not cause you pain. My life has been--”

  “But I cannot deny you, don’t you see? Your life has been all of suffering and I have had luxury, but did you see any difference in the way one welcomed the other? Oh Dylan, my wanting has never been less than yours. But I had not wanted to hurt my son. ...”

  Dylan held her as she wept. Guilt at having taken advantage of her weakness turned the bliss of the moment into a shameful, regrettable abyss.

  “I did what had to be done,” she murmured, tears choking her voice. “My mother ... I was caught coming from the cask room that last night ... I knew the only way to await you was to go to Lord Forbes, for Raedelle with my mother was a dangerous place. And of course when he knew that I was not pure, my mother lied for me, to keep her association with Ayliffe through my marriage. Every day, every week, she threatens to tell him the truth unless I succor her every whim and want. Do you think your family can be restored if Lord Forbes learns that we were lovers? And here we are, lovers again.”

  “I was afraid you loved me no more,” Dylan whispered.

  “Are you still afraid of that?” she asked him.

  “Now,” he said with a rueful chuckle, “I am afraid of myself. Anne, I was so desperate for you, I ... “He shook his head. He had never before been so out of control. “Will you forgive me?”

  “For loving me? Or …”

  “My hunger,” he said, looking at her, his eyes deeper and more serious than she had ever seen them: “I have allowed my hunger for you to eat at me. Anne, I never wished to hurt you. Or shame you. Or …”

  “Dylan, you are my heart – I could not deny you. I could not deny myself. But now Lady Gifford will surely have what she wants – she will see me stripped and stoned and thrown out of the Ayliffe gate. My son ...”

  “Nay, my Anne, my love,” he said, embracing her and pulling her near. “Don’t cry, love. We can keep this secret from Lord Forbes. When you return to him today--”

  “He is not in the city, Dylan. He is with his son in Wales. But--”

  “Then you are safe, my love. I won’t hurt you. There is no tragedy yet ...”

  She touched his cheek. “Fate is unkind,” she said, stroking his hair. “We should be far beyond this yearning. We should have learned, by now, to accept what we cannot have. Yet we steal it.”

  “I only wanted to know that you loved me still. It is the only thing I have lived for. I’m sorry, Anne. I don’t want you to be afraid of me, afraid of what I feel for you. If I cannot protect you, how can I ask you to love me?”

  He lay on his back and she turned, bracing on an elbow, tracing his strong jawline with a finger, studying his face through tear-filled eyes. “Once I knew your eyes so well. Now I do not understand. You were so angry, then so--”

  He closed his eyes as if he would block out her questions. “The past years have been difficult – I have become hardened and selfish. The boy-knight who would die for your love became a man who would tear it from you.”

  “But Dylan, my love is yours. You need not beg it, steal it, nor bargain for it. But I can give you nothing else. Lord Forbes would only mount his ten thousand and find me. He is not cruel, nor evil – he treasures me, though I do not deserve him. In five years he has been tender and generous. But Dylan, his hand is more powerful than the Gifford hand ever was.”

  Dylan sighed, mortified by the fear he had caused in her. “To take you away from all our obligations is my heart’s desire, though that kind of life is not what I would have for you. The existence is poor and dangerous. And I knew you were not a woman who could leave her children.” His large hand covered her stomach, her pregnancy barely blooming. “Would that I could give you a child.”

  “You have a wife whose family ties gave you England. Tell me about her. Your wife.”

  “No. For you she does not exist.”

  “But Dylan ...”

  “I was certain you would tell me you loved him.”

  She closed her eyes against the threat of tears. “I do love Lord Forbes, Dylan. Tis not the same love I feel for you, but to hurt him would cause me great pain He indulges my family, though they are mostly selfish. He keeps my mother in her place, when she would not hesitate to hurt me. And he raises an heir of Ayliffe ... my son. I owe him everything.”

  “As do I,” he said honestly. “The troop that rescued me, dressed in his lordship’s livery, was my brother’s troop. May the earl never know how much I owe him.”

  “I am afraid, Dylan. Afraid of you, afraid of myself, afraid of what this sin will cost us all.”

  “We have little, but it is a great deal more than I thought we would ever have. Anne, you need not be afraid. I will not allow you to be hurt by my own desperate need. I will take your love and let it make me strong.”

  “I did not foresee this day,” she said, lying back in the pillows and resting her wrist across her eyes. “It was not the endurance of my feelings for you that I doubted – I just did not think I had the courage of an adulteress.”

  “I think, my love, that it is more wrong for us to be forever apart.”

 
“Dylan, this cannot go on. We cannot be secret lovers again.”

  “Perhaps not often,” he replied. “If the time is right, we will be together, and if the time is not right, we will be content with a glance across a room. I, for one, feel grateful to know our hearts are still entwined. I will let that be enough. Can you trust me, my Anne? If I swear that never again will I force my feelings on you in such a way? If I find a way to prove that the light in your eyes will be enough? If I show you that your smile alone will--Anne, my love, please believe me, I ached to have those things I have been without--England and your love.”

  “Can you do it, Dylan? Can you force a smile when Lord Forbes puts his arm about my waist or kisses my brow? I am afraid. To see those angry, jealous eyes stare at me as if I have robbed you of something--I have only attempted to live the life I have been given. I only want to raise my children.”

  “I will prove I can do it. I have a wife, you have a husband. You have children now,” he murmured. “I wish your children were of my loins, but I cannot change that. I know Lord Forbes is a decent man, and I would ever thank him, if I dared, for seeing to your needs when I could not, but I will not give you up, Anne. I cannot. If there is a moment when no one watches and I can hold you in my arms, I will.”

  “Secret lovers,” she whispered. “Yet again.”

  “If you say me nay, I will leave you alone. I love you.” He sighed deeply. “I do not want my love to hurt you.”

  “Would it not be wiser to go our separate ways, live our separate lives?”

  “Undoubtedly. Can you?”

  “Nay,” she replied. “But while we selfishly take what we want, other lives might be damaged.”

  “We will have to do all we can to prevent that. Our moments together may be a precious few. But if we are cautious, they will continue for a very long time.” He touched the curve of her jaw. To take her away from her child would destroy her, to shame her publicly would eat away at her love. To take her would mean giving her up. He knew it now as he had never known it before. “It would be braver to flee,” he said. “But,” he relented, “the world is not large enough to escape the mighty Woodville clan, nor one of the richest earls in England. Anne, I would marry you if I could, but I cannot. Still, I need your love, if only the memory of our last kiss and the knowledge that there will be a next.”