Dragon's Dower

by Catherine Archer

  Simon might find it amusing to bait him. She did not. Nor did she wish to show any hint of weakness, for was that not what her desire was—a weakness?

  Yet she knew not how to disguise this relentless longing. There must be something she could do.

  Suddenly she bit her lip. There was something, did she but have the courage. Something that would ease this longing while getting her what she wanted most—a child.

  Surely it would not be too great a thing to face Simon. She would simply tell him that she would not try to hold him to her, that she would help him to find grounds for annulment in spite of the child. Her father’s hope of using the babe to gain Simon’s land could not be fulfilled with Simon alive.

  The very thought of Simon’s touching her again made her heart pound. She took a calming breath, telling herself she must not be caught up in this passion. Simon was available and would do well enough. He had shown her some courtesy in taking her part against her father, which was more honor than anyone else had given her since her uncle’s death.

  He would be a better father than her father would have chosen for her child. All she need do was make him understand she would not try to hold him. In the event that her father became angry over the annulment and refused to acknowledge the child as his heir, Isabelle would take him and flee Dragonwick, find her mother’s sister in Normandy. She would simply say that she was widowed and had left her father, whom the lady had not seemed to like. Surely if that noble lady had come all the way to see her so many years ago she would have pity and take her in. Hope made her heart swell.

  Though Isabelle wished for her son to be lord of the lands and owed it to her uncle’s memory, she suddenly realized that having someone of her own to love, and leading her own life, was even more important. Perhaps Simon did not truly care for her, but his insistence that she could make her own choices was in fact sound advice.

  The sale of her jewels would bring enough to sustain her, Helwys and the babe for a very long time. Though she was quite positive her father did not actually deem them her possessions they were kept in the chest in her room for he would never imagine her capable of leaving with them.

  Armed with newfound independence and an astoundingly sensible plan, Isabelle knew she would find a way to convince Simon. She must. It seemed the only way to regain the once reassuring control she’d had over her emotions.

  After lying wakeful for most of what remained of the night, she sent Helwys to ask her husband to come to her. She must strike just the correct note with Simon. She would rely upon their mutual desire. He had said he did not wish to consummate the marriage, but he had no more right to decide her life than her father. Though she knew nothing of seduction that was precisely what she must attempt. The way Simon had touched her, kissed her, the way he looked at her with those hot liquid brown eyes, told her he was not immune to her. The fact that thinking of it made her own body tighten did not please her. But soon that ache would be appeased and she would be free of the desire for him.

  Even though she did not look about when the chamber door opened, Isabelle knew it was Simon. She could smell the fresh air, the brisk strength that he brought with him.

  “Isabelle.” The sound of her name on his lips made her tremble and she had to take a deep calming breath before facing him. It would not do to seem too eager.

  She stood and turned toward him slowly. “Simon.”

  A dark brow arched high over narrowed eyes that seemed to study her closely. “You sent for me.”

  She nodded, ignoring her own discomfort with his manner. “I did.” It was understandable that there would be some awkwardness between them after the way they had parted the last time they had spoken.

  He continued to watch her with those mahogany eyes.

  Now faced with the task of telling him why she had asked for him, Isabelle felt suddenly shy and uncertain. What had seemed perfectly reasonable when she was alone now seemed far less so when faced with her husband’s assessing manner and overwhelmingly masculine presence.

  Yet Isabelle was no craven. Calling upon all her powers of will she smiled pleasantly and indicated the chair she had just vacated, “Please, sit.”

  Simon continued to study her, though there was a brief flicker of something unreadable in his gaze as it passed over her deliberately bright smile. Slowly he came forward and took the seat as she took two steps backward.

  His gaze met hers again. “You may come out with whatever it is you have called me here to say. You honor neither of us with your false civility and hesitancy.”

  She nodded, though his directness was somewhat maddening. Subtlety was wasted on the blackguard. “Very well, then. I will out with it. You know and I know that we each of us have our own desires for the future.”

  He curtly inclined his own head.

  She wanted to throttle him for his lack of enthusiasm, yet that would not serve her purpose. Her tone was gracious even as she continued, “I have been thinking much in the days since we last spoke and I have realized there is no harm in each of us getting what we want.”

  He continued to watch her, waiting.

  “Simon…I…” Now that it was time, the words stuck in her throat, refusing to come.

  Simon studied the lovely Isabelle as she fought for control, intrigued in spite of himself as she turned and went to the window. She stared out with what appeared to be unseeing eyes. Simon found himself encouraging her to go on. He wondered if this interview was in any way connected to his unanswered questions concerning her involvement in her father’s wish for him to produce a child. “What is it you are trying to say, Isabelle?”

  She took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders, before coming back to him with another one of those deliberately bright smiles. That smile caused a tiny dimple to appear in her cheek and made his heart flutter in spite of its lack of genuineness. “I simply wish we could find some way to be friends, as you have suggested on several occasions.”

  Simon gave an inward grimace. He could hear the regret in his voice as he replied, “I do recall that I have told you as much.”

  Isabelle looked at him closely as she said, “Are you still of that mind?”

  He shrugged, deliberately casual as he grew even more suspicious of her motives here. “Why would I not be? It was not me who rejected that notion.”

  He saw the momentary flash of chagrin in her eyes before she came toward him with slow deliberation. She did not stop until she had moved around him to stand directly behind his chair. When she spoke there was a new huskiness to her tone which surprised him and made him think of things he should not. “I am so very glad to hear that.”

  He was conscious of the warm soft scent of her and realized how very close she must be. Simon swallowed hard as he felt the fine hairs rise along the base of his neck. He attempted to speak evenly, to remember that he was only letting her play out her game. “Your words are surprising, especially after what occurred in the lodge. I thought that you might be…You have seemed distant.” Why he said this he did not know, but he heard the regret in his tone.

  He felt the barest brush of her velvet gown against the back of his neck now. Again he swallowed hard.

  She whispered. “I was angry, perhaps for a time. But anger is not what I am feeling now, my husband.”

  He tried to think on what was happening here. His voice was hoarse when he said, “Isabelle?”

  She gave a soft breathless laugh that sounded somewhat nervous; or perhaps it was just his own feeling that he was diverting to her. Her softly voiced, “Simon?” did not seem nervous. There was a definite hint of, God help him, seductiveness in her husky tone.

  As soon as the thought entered his mind, Simon tossed it away. He could not believe such a thing. Not once in his acquaintance of Isabelle had he ever had any indication she would know of such things. Kelsey’s daughter she might be, but he had seen naught but innocence in her. Even her fiery responses to his advances had not disguised that fact.

  Even as thi
s thought passed through his mind he felt the cool brush of her fingers on the back of his neck. A jolt of heat as intense as a lightning bolt shot through his body, stopped his breathing, tightened his lower belly.

  Simon jumped up, spinning about to face her. “Isabelle, what are you doing?”

  For a brief moment there was an expression of uncertainty in those lavender eyes. It was gone in the time it took her to take a quick breath in through her nose.

  With what he would have considered undaunting perseverance were she an enemy on the battlefield, Isabelle came around the chair and moved toward him. Those lovely eyes raked him with a heat that shocked him. “I think you know what I am doing.”

  Simon felt his head swim as the promise in her voice conjured up images such as those that had kept him restless upon his pallet each night. He took her hands in his, and pressed them together as if that would somehow halt the heat that flowed between them. He forced himself to focus on his suspicions. “Has your father told you to say this?”

  Her shock could not be feigned. “Why would you ask?”

  He made himself go on despite his sudden realization that he was most likely wrong. “Then why do you come to me with this when your father has been so insistent?

  She looked up at him, her eyes filled with entreaty. “You do not wish to be wed to me, yet I wish for a child. We need not remain wed. I would not expect it of you. I would help you attain your annulment, say anything you wished me to say. There was no bedding ceremony. You could claim that I had some deformity you were not aware of.”

  He sprang back from her. “In no way could I fathom fathering a child I would never know. I have learned too well that a father must know a son and a son his father in the loss of my own.” His voice was rough with regret and horror as he growled, “Nay, never!”

  Isabelle saw the surprise, the confusion and finally horror that passed over her husband’s face. Embarrassment swept over her. But it was his harshly voiced denial that stabbed her with shame. After the way Simon had touched her, kissed her that day and the way he looked at her…She had thought if she made it clear she would not try to hold him…that all she wished was…

  Clearly she had been sadly mistaken. For he believed that she was somehow in league with her father.

  Suddenly the years ahead, the loneliness, the death of her own dreams fell in upon her, bringing a heavy aching to her breast that left her weak.

  “Isabelle.” It was said in a husky, pitying tone.

  She did not want his pity. Desperately Isabelle swung about and ran. Blindly she found the latch on the door, jerking it open and racing down the hall, praying all the while that he would not follow, that he would leave her the tattered shreds that remained of her dignity.

  Simon stood very still for a long moment. He knew he should let her go. Let things lie as they were. It was the best for both of them.

  He could not. The image of her face, the pain she had been unable to hide, refused to leave him. It touched him even more deeply than the passion she had displayed, for that had been offered in aid of her desire to have a child.

  A child he would have no part in rearing. How could she have imagined he would agree to such madness?

  Again an image of her, her slender shoulders slumped as she ran from the room flashed into his mind. With a groan of utter frustration Simon went after her.

  He caught a glimpse of the skirt of her burgundy gown disappearing at the end of the narrow hallway. He followed, down the stairs and through the keep, passing through the hall without seeing more than a glimpse of Isabelle as she exited the far door, which led to the courtyard.

  He ignored the regard of the castle folk, continuing after her. It was only as he saw Isabelle disappear into the stables that he realized whence she must be going.

  The hunting lodge. Somehow he knew she would go there.

  And one thing he did know about his unpredictable wife was that she would want to be alone right now. When she emerged from the stable a moment later on her mare he knew he was correct in his thinking.

  Simon went to the stables and told the wide-eyed stable boy that he wanted his horse immediately. The boy stared at Simon so intently as he began to saddle the horse that his efforts were greatly impaired. With a grimace, Simon took the saddle and completed the task himself.

  He was on his way without delay but there was no sign of Isabelle when he left the castle gates. If he was wrong about her destination he would not find her.

  But Simon had not been wrong. Her horse was tied outside the lodge. Simon left his stallion beside the mare and moved to open the door without ceremony. Isabelle was not immediately visible in the dim interior. But her quickly indrawn breath of shock drew his gaze to the bed.

  She sat up hurriedly, wiping her hands over her face. “What are you doing here?”

  Stung by the bitterness of her tone, he took a deep breath, telling himself her anger was not surprising. “I had to talk with you.”

  She raised her chin high and he felt the rage that emanated from her eyes though he could not see them in the dimness of the room. “There is nothing more to be said.”

  He took a step closer. “I think there is.”

  A choking sob escaped her. “Y-you h-have said all.” He heard the quaver in her voice and knew she was shivering.

  Quickly Simon moved to the hearth.

  “Wh-What are you d-doing?” she asked him coldly.

  He ignored her tone answering, evenly, “Lighting a fire.”

  “I do not require—”

  He interrupted, “I can see that you are cold so there is no need to deny it.”

  She said no more and he built a fire with as little effort as he had the first time they had been here. But even that short time gave opportunity for his head to cool further, for him to decide he would face her resentment with calm reason.

  When Simon was done, he stood, and she said, “Will you go now?”

  He moved closer to her, keeping in mind his resolve to remain calm. “I…pray…forgive me for my vehemence in your chamber. It was not called for. I but meant for you to understand my position.”

  Isabelle stood, pointing toward the door. “Your purpose has been served. I understand your position.”

  He held out his hand. “Methinks you do not. I would offer my regret for any hurt I have done you. And my compassion.”

  She sucked in a quick breath that did not disguise that fact that it was accompanied by another sob. “I ask you, my lord, if there is any bit of compassion in you, to go and leave me with some pride.”

  “Perhaps you have too much pride.”

  To his amazement she rushed toward him in one fluid motion that caught him off guard. “How dare you? How dare you accuse me of having too much pride? You who have such a great surfeit of that very thing. You hold your pride before you like a shield.”

  Before he knew he was going to do so, he reached out to grasp her slight shoulders tightly. His stomach churned with exasperation. Never had any woman held the power to make him lose control of himself. Or, at least, not before this one. “That is a pretty insult coming from you.”

  She glared up at him, her eyes dark with resentment. “Are you the only one who is free to offer insult, my lord? Do you not see the insults to me?”

  He grimaced. “I have behaved badly. But you must imagine how it looked when your father—”

  She rolled her eyes, her reaction telling him that this was not the case. “Why would you think such a thing, when I have not revealed that we have not been together?”

  Simon shrugged. “He has learned that I am no longer sleeping in your chambers. He again informed me of my duty to produce a child.”

  She became very still, her eyes now filled with something akin to fear, her skin too white even in this dim light. “Dear heaven, when did he do this? Does he know that we have not been together?”

  He frowned. “Late last eve. Nay, I am sure he does not. He said only that I must return to your chambe
rs and that I should not be lingering in the hall when my wife is not yet breeding.”

  Isabelle put her hands to her cheeks. “Dear God, he did not.” She realized this must have preceded the portion of the conversation Isabelle had overheard.

  There was no mistaking her genuine horror. “Aye, he did, and I began to wonder about your telling me how much you wanted a child, even a child of mine.” He shrugged. “You are very obedient to him.” He could hear the tightness in his own voice as he spoke of this.

  She covered her face. “Heaven help me, I can find no rest from the desires and suspicions of others.”

  Again sympathy eased his anger. He let go of her shoulders, gently drawing her hands down from her, his gaze holding her tormented one. “Oh, Isabelle, what have we gotten into here?”

  She glared at him, but beneath the outrage he could still see her misery. “Obviously something neither of us wanted.” She looked away, tilting her head high. “Now that all is clear to you, I would be grateful if you would leave me in peace.”

  He stood his ground, willing her to face him and when she did he asked, “Why did you approach me again today when we had already decided this matter?”

  Her lids came down to mask those incredible eyes. “You know I want a child. As I said, you would be as good a father as any other and I had thought if I made it clear that I would see that you obtained an annulment…”

  He interrupted as his stomach clenched at the thought of her with another, but he forced himself to say, “As you said, any man could produce a child. You do not need me if you intend to give me an annulment anyway.”

  Isabelle looked away. “In spite of the many irritating qualities you possess you are not without merit as a man. Helwys says that you have treated her well, that you are the same with the other servants and castle folk.”

  He was somewhat surprised that she would set so much store in such simple things. She did not realize that most men were not as her father and that Simon had shown no more than human decency.

  But she went on, her words and husky tone distracting him from his thoughts. “Beyond that there are these feelings inside me. These strange things that happen when you touch me. I…” She halted, flushing as she stared down.