The Crusader's Handfast

by Claire Delacroix

  Indeed, she might have defeated the oaf from the kitchen, even if he had not happened upon their battle.

  It was a novelty indeed to meet a woman who could fend for herself. Lady Ysmaine was stronger than most would guess, but Duncan guessed that a large factor in that noblewoman’s survival had been the advice of her pragmatic maid.

  A maid whose dark eyes twinkled so enticingly in her pleasure that Duncan wished to see her smile for all her days and nights.

  They danced to the fiddler’s tune, danced until their feet hurt and they had to stop to catch their breath. Radegunde was as exuberant as he might have expected and an excellent partner.

  He gave more consideration than he knew he should to her impulsive offer. Aye, she was sweetly curved and danced like a fiend, so filled with vigor that he knew a night in her bed would be most satisfying.

  Indeed, there would likely be no slumber at all.

  They sang along with the minstrels who led familiar songs—although Duncan was not surprised that Radegunde had a fine rich voice, he was surprised that she knew the words to some of the more vulgar ditties. She laughed at his reaction, which meant he had unwittingly revealed his thoughts, her mischievous enjoyment of that tempting him to share yet more.

  They had wine, at Duncan’s expense, and he granted her a penny to tip a juggler whose feats made her eyes round with delight. He bought her a meat pie, hot from a baker’s wagon, when they finally left the tavern and she insisted upon sharing it with him as they walked back to the inn.

  The sky was indigo and the stars were bright overhead. Shutters were locked against the night at every abode they passed, and the music of the tavern faded steadily behind them. Great Paris might have been their own at this hour. Once the meat pie was gone and the crumbs brushed away, Radegunde put her hand in his own once more, as if it belonged nowhere else, and Duncan knew a welcome satisfaction.

  He felt lighter and younger—although he knew the weight of his burdens would return to his shoulders soon enough. It was beyond restorative, though, to have a reprieve.

  There was another detail they had in common. Ahead lay duty and responsibility for him as well as for Radegunde. He would journey home to Scotland with his knight, witness the marriage of Fergus and Isobel, perhaps welcome the routine of employment as a man-at-arms at Killairic. Though Duncan had yearned for home all these years abroad, his future prospects seemed somewhat bleak after this night.

  Because he would be alone. It was his choice, of course, for he knew he had naught to offer to a woman such as Radegunde, but in this moment, he found it a less appealing option than once he had.

  She filled his mind with tempting possibilities.

  Possibilities Duncan knew could not come to be. He must ensure that she had no expectations of him, beyond a night of dancing and a kiss or two. Her future was yet before her, and he would not be the one to taint it.

  “Did you not enjoy yourself?” Radegunde asked, and he realized she had been watching him closely. “I pray I did not compel you to surrender your rest for no gain.”

  Duncan did not have to force his smile. “It was a fine evening, even if you do know songs I would not have expected you to sing.”

  Radegunde laughed. Duncan had hoped she would do as much and the sound made him smile.

  “I knew you were surprised.” She leaned against his side in a most companionable and enticing way. “Indeed, Duncan, I wish I had known how very gratifying it is to surprise you. I should have started to do so much sooner.” She shook her head. “I have wasted weeks when I could have been tormenting you.”

  “You are a mischievous wench,” he accused.

  Her smile was impish. “I do so try.”

  “Did you injure yourself?” When she did not reply, he gestured to her foot. “You are limping.” He feared he had not watched her keenly enough.

  Radegunde shrugged. “I have never danced so much in one night. Perhaps I danced too much, but I will never regret it.” She smiled up at him. “It was wondrous, Duncan, and I thank you for taking me.”

  He could do naught but look down at her, snared as he was by her charm. “You are welcome,” he acknowledged and meant it. “Though I am not certain I truly had a choice.”

  She laughed again as they turned down the lane that led to the inn. “But I was right. It was a fitting end to both the day and the journey.”

  Duncan deliberately did not mention her earlier suggestion of another way to end this day. “And so you are prepared to continue home to your duties?”

  “Far from that! But it will be as it must be.” Radegunde sobered as the gate to the inn appeared ahead, and her voice softened. Though he knew she must be disappointed that their revels had ended, her next words surprised him. “I suppose there is little point in tormenting you, since you are resolved to be a man of honor this night.”

  Duncan considered her. “I am surprised that you surrender your quest as readily as this.”

  Radegunde smiled up at him. “Is that meant to encourage me?”

  “Nay, for there can be naught more between us, but I did not expect you to be so readily convinced.”

  Radegunde surveyed the quiet alley. “But as this is likely to be the last time I see you, the matter shall rest there.” Again, she cast him a playful smile. “Will you later regret the missed opportunity, Duncan?”

  He had not considered the parting of their paths until this moment and found that he shared her reaction.

  He regretted his choice already, but he had to think of her future.

  “You may be right. This may be farewell,” Duncan said, knowing that his answer was vague. There had been talk at the Temple before he left, and he was uncertain what Fergus and the Grand Master might have decided in his absence.

  Radegunde, of course, did not fail to note that he was not definite. She turned that bright gaze upon him. “You think it might not be.”

  “It is possible that Gaston will bring his lady to Fergus’ nuptials in Scotland.”

  Radegunde shook her head. “Not if she conceives his child, and they do pursue that goal most ardently.”

  “You think him protective?”

  “I know he is protective of his wife, as all men of merit are. My lady will be hard-pressed to leave her chamber once she confesses that she is with child, and I doubt that day is far away.” Radegunde straightened and resolve lit her eyes. “In all likelihood, I shall have a fair battle to ensure that she is permitted to leave her bed.”

  Duncan smiled at her ferocity. “I wager it is Gaston who will have the battle, for he will have to contend with you.”

  Radegunde smiled. “He will!”

  “You do not fear him?”

  She scoffed. “Of course not! There is a man whose heart is true, and one who will never raise a hand against a woman. I could be most impertinent and he would do no more than glower at me in disapproval.” She smiled. “Particularly if my intent is to ensure his lady wife’s welfare.”

  “You think him smitten then?” Duncan asked, wondering whether they had come to the same conclusion about the perfection of the match.

  “I think no two souls could be better suited to each other.” Radegunde spoke without a doubt.

  “Then you will remain in Lady Ysmaine’s service.”

  “I suspect so. She is good to me, kinder than most from what I hear. I have no means of comparison for she is the only lady I have ever served.”

  Duncan endeavored to find good in the situation. “Perhaps she will see you wed to a good man.”

  Radegunde wrinkled her nose. “Do not spoil such this evening, Duncan,” she chided. “You might as well serve me a cup of vinegar after a sumptuous meal.”

  “I do apologize.”

  “You need not. I know it is folly for me to wish to wed for love and yearn for adventure, but I would forget that for a little longer, if you please.”

  “Lady Ysmaine may let you choose your spouse.”

  “She might.” Radegunde changed
the subject with a deliberation Duncan did not fail to note. “I hope my lady bears many sons, and the first one quickly.”

  Duncan could not entirely forget his own past. “I hope there is a good midwife to be found when the moment comes,” he murmured with heat.

  To his surprise, Radegunde made no particular note of his comment. He had seen that she was perceptive, and he thought in hindsight that there had been too much regret in his tone, but she waved away his concern.

  “There is naught to fear. My mother will come to Lady Ysmaine. I am certain of it.”

  “Your mother is a midwife?”

  “Aye, and the finest to be found,” Radegunde insisted proudly. “She brought Lady Ysmaine and all her sisters into the world, as well as most of the village of Valeroy.” Her voice dropped. “She always wished to teach me, and I suppose that now she will.”

  “You do not sound very enthused.”

  “It is a great responsibility to usher children into the world, for a babe’s arrival is an event that does not always proceed as planned,” Radegunde said, her manner more solemn than he had ever seen her. Duncan could only agree, though he was intrigued that she shared his view. She flicked him a look and he knew his earlier comment had not escaped her notice. “As I believe you know.”

  Duncan averted his gaze and frowned. He felt exposed, even as he had the strange urge to confide in his companion.

  Radegunde continued softly. “There is a great trust between mother and midwife, but it must be balanced with the truth to ensure the greater kindness.”

  “How so?”

  “To explain as much, I would have to confess another secret to you,” she replied, her tone teasing. “Though not one of my own.”

  “Perhaps another wager would be timely,” Duncan found himself suggesting. “Another exchange of secrets.”

  “But this one must redress the balance,” Radegunde insisted, that challenge back in her eyes. “I told a secret of myself, and you of another. This time, I will tell a secret of another, and you will confess one of yourself.”

  Duncan balked.

  She shook a finger at him, so undaunted that he knew she had anticipated his reaction. “I see you will not take my terms, Duncan, so we shall have no wager.”

  Duncan felt unsettled, for his feelings were so mixed. On the one hand, he would have welcomed the opportunity to share his secrets with one so sympathetic as Radegunde. On the other, he was accustomed to keeping his own counsel, and worse, he feared she would make much of the import of such a confidence.

  He did not wish to encourage any notions she might have.

  But he did not wish to part from her as yet.

  Radegunde raised a hand to rap on the portal. “No wager and no seduction,” she said, then gave a heartfelt sigh. “At least I have had my dance.”

  Duncan could not resist the urge to respond. “And what if I did take your wager?”

  Radegunde’s smile was all he could have hoped for. “Which one?”

  “The tale, of course.”

  “Of course!” She poked his arm and shook her head, evidently not so displeased as that. “Then I shall welcome your confidence,” she said before she leaned close. “And you may be sure that I shall never share it with another.”

  It was as if she read his deepest fears, and did so readily. She stood but a step away from him, her back against the gate to the inn, and her cheeks flushed. He dropped his gaze to her mouth, wondering whether she would read the particular thought that consumed him in this moment, and saw her lips curve knowingly. Sure enough, her eyes were sparkling anew.

  “Do you take my other wager, as well, Duncan?” she whispered. “Or must I convince you of that offer’s merit?”

  “I would take a kiss and no more.”

  “Why not more? Do you not find me alluring?”

  “Most alluring,” he confessed. “But I would not cast a shadow on your future.”

  “I knew you to be a man of honor,” she whispered, then eased closer. “But consider this, Duncan. I am the daughter of a wise woman. You will not taint me with pleasure, for none will ever know what we have done.” Her voice fell lower yet. “Except me, and I will savor the memory forevermore.”

  This time, she looked to his lips. Duncan was enticed, for he knew their thoughts were as one. A kiss and no more, but he would make it a kiss to recall. A kiss to warm his nights and fuel her dreams. A kiss with which she could challenge her alemaker to do better, and a kiss which would haunt him forever.

  He cupped her nape in his hand, his cheek looking fair and soft against his rough hand. He speared his fingers into her hair and felt her braid slip loose. Radegunde smiled up at him, so confident and trusting that his chest clenched.

  Zounds, but what would he have given to have been unscarred in this moment?

  Duncan bent and brushed his mouth once across Radegunde’s, tasting her breath and savoring her sweetness, then he claimed her lips, lifting her against him and slanting his mouth over hers. If he could have possessed her with a kiss, he would have done it with this one, and he made no attempt to disguise his interest. If Duncan had thought that Radegunde might be frightened by his passion, he had erred indeed.

  For the lady rose to her toes, locked her arms around his neck, and returned his salute with vigor.

  * * *

  Duncan’s kisses grew more intoxicating each time. Indeed, Radegunde was convinced that she could feast upon them and naught else, so intense was the pleasure he granted. Each kiss might have been a taste of heaven.

  Radegunde wanted only more. She arched against him and opened her mouth to him, inviting him to partake of all she had to offer. She heard him groan. She felt his knee slide between her thighs and his grip tighten upon her…

  Then she heard the bolt sliding on the far side of the gate.

  She jumped at the sound, and Duncan stood back, easing her to his side.

  “I thought you meant to knock,” Bartholomew complained. He sounded both sleepy and grumpy. He opened the portal and gave them both a thorough perusal as they entered the courtyard. Radegunde felt color rise in her cheeks but Bartholomew showed no interest in her reaction.

  Duncan might be right about Laurent, but she was not convinced that he was right about Bartholomew.

  “I did mean to knock, but you were quicker than me,” Duncan said.

  “Quicker? I heard you outside the portal for so long that I thought you had forgotten how to knock,” Bartholomew complained. “Any living soul would show more haste!”

  Radegunde realized that the squire had not guessed what they were doing. He was not observant, to be sure! Duncan closed the portal behind them and shot the bolt home. All was quiet in the courtyard.

  “I have not slept as yet,” Bartholomew replied, then yawned mightily. He shoved a hand through his hair, leaving it standing on end, and eyed them with evident exhaustion. “I thought it best that some soul stand vigil. Perhaps you might do as much now.”

  Without waiting for Duncan to do more than nod, Bartholomew returned to the far end of the stables. Radegunde heard him settling into the hay, and but moments later, he began to snore softly.

  Radegunde considered the portal to the inn and thought of the man who had assaulted her before. “I will stay with you,” she said to Duncan.

  “We will keep only one of your wagers,” he insisted.

  “Fair enough,” she agreed, not wanting to risk another assault by that brute in the kitchen.

  Again Duncan took her hand, but this time, he escorted her to the opposite end of the stables from Bartholomew. The hay was thick and sweet, and the spot he chose had a good vantage of the portals. He lifted his cloak from her shoulders and spread it over the straw, making a place for them to sit together. His cloak was thick enough to keep the hay from prickling. Radegunde sat down and Duncan gathered it over her shoulders.

  Did he meant to sit apart from her?

  “We had best sit close,” she informed him. “Lest any hear you
r secret.”

  “Lest Bartholomew be awakened anew,” Duncan agreed. He sat down beside her, the weight of his arm over her shoulders and the heat of his thigh against her own. Radegunde tugged the ends of the cloak over them both and nestled closer. “Temptress,” he murmured again, but she smiled up at him.

  “I may well fall asleep, and I would be warm.”

  His bright gaze clung to hers and she could scarce draw a breath at his intense manner. “I will ensure you are so, lass. You need not fear otherwise.”

  She dared to rest her cheek upon his chest, but the pose was less comfortable than might have been ideal. Duncan lifted her and turned her so that she sat in his lap, then wrapped both his arms and the cloak around her. Radegunde smiled up at him contentedly. “I like this well, sir.” She rolled her buttocks against him. “As, I believe, do you.”

  He spared her a grim glance. “Tell your secret,” he growled and she laughed at his gruff manner.

  “It is the secret of another, as I mentioned earlier.”

  “It is a tale of trust between mother and midwife,” Duncan reminded her.

  “Indeed it is. My mother, as I said, brought Lady Ysmaine and all her siblings into the world. She was but sixteen summers of age when Lady Richildis bore Lady Ysmaine, and much concerned that she would be responsible for Lord Amaury’s first babe. My mother said that Lord Amaury was most anxious for a son.”

  “As many men are, the better to ensure the suzerainty of their holding for the future.”

  “Aye, it is an inclination founded in good sense, but my mother was uncertain what to expect of him when the babe was born a girl.” Radegunde heaved a sigh. “He is a good man, though, Lord Amaury. She said there was but a glimmer of disappointment before he took his daughter, but in but the blink of an eye, he had lost his heart in truth.” Radegunde looked up to find Duncan smiling.

  “I like this tale well. It is difficult to dislike a man so readily smitten with an infant, be it boy or girl.”

  “Aye, it implies a goodness in his nature. Lord Amaury is both gentle and strong.”

  “A fine balance in a man.”

  “Indeed, and one that makes his villeins love him. So it was that my mother so admired Lord Amaury that she wished he should have the son he desired. Evidently, Lady Richildis wished for this, as well, for she ripened again with all speed.”