Dance Of Desire

by Catherine Kean

  She could not wait to speak with Thomas Newland.

  Hands on his hips, Fane scowled down at the stable hand. "She what}"

  The man's face crumpled. Bowing his head, he turned the grooming brush in his fingers. "She told me she 'ad ta ride into Tangston, ta buy ye a gift."

  Fane bit back a string of vile curses waiting to explode. Anger thumped in his veins. Rexana had deceived him. Deliberately. She had never intended to come to the solar and taste passion. As she had pleaded for a few moments to collect her thoughts, she plotted to take one of his horses and flee.

  Did she try to avoid the consummation? To escape their marriage? Did she truly believe that after all his careful wooing, he would ever let her go?

  Between his clenched teeth, he said, "Ready my horse."

  The man bowed, then scurried into the shadowed stable. Fane flexed his fingers and shrugged away knotted tension. She might run, but he would catch her. Heart, body and soul, she belonged to him. She was his.

  The captain of the guard strode across the bailey toward him. "Milord."

  "Find three of your best men. I need an escort."

  "Aye, milord."

  Fane glanced at the drawbridge and the winding road beyond. Disquiet fueled his fury. She traveled alone. To his knowledge, she did not carry a weapon. The roads were dangerous enough for armed knights, but a beautiful woman riding alone . . .

  He cursed again. Had she no care for her own safety? Why did she take such a senseless risk?

  The stable hand returned with a saddle.

  "Hurry," Fane growled. "I have no time to waste."

  His hand settled on the jeweled dagger tucked into his belt. He turned and stormed back to the keep, almost tripping over a dog chewing on a bone. He must take his sword. Before he gave Rexana a well-deserved tongue lashing, he might have to save her pretty neck.

  Through the stand of sun-drenched alders ahead, Rexana spied the thatched roofs of Thomas's cottage and barn. She urged the lathered mare to a faster trot.

  Not far, now. She could not wait to speak with Thomas. He would help her prove what a grievous error Fane had made in arresting and imprisoning her brother.

  As the mare clopped into the dirt space before Thomas's home, two girls, busy milking a cow, glanced out of the barn. They dried their hands, waved, then ran to the house. Excited shrieks drifted to Rexana. "Mama! Mama."

  Thomas's wife Mary stepped out, a swaddled baby in her arms. The scent of cooking food wafted from the open doorway. She smiled, waved, yet the welcoming gesture seemed hesitant. Her face, too, held a wariness that had not been evident in earlier visits.

  Ignoring a twinge of unease, Rexana slid from the mare's back and smoothed the creases from her bliaut. "Hello, Mary."

  The woman dropped into a deep curtsey. "Good day, Lady Linford. 'Tis an honor to see you."

  Rexana suppressed a frown. Mary's voice quavered. Why? Did she feel differently about Rexana now that she was married to the county's High Sheriff? Surely Mary did not believe that the marriage had changed Rexana.

  Offering a warm smile, Rexana swept hair from her brow. " 'Tis good to see you. Is Thomas about?"

  Mary stiffened. "He is. Ye wish ta speak with'im?"

  "Aye."

  Mary's gaze darkened with trepidation, yet she motioned Rexana inside. As Rexana stepped over the cottage's threshold, her belly tightened. Why did Mary seem so unsettled, even frightened?

  The shadowed interior, softened by candles and a crackling fire, soothed Rexana's frazzled nerves. Mary must have heard of Rudd's arrest. Such news would no doubt have caused the family uncertainty, since Rudd had been generous in helping them and ensuring they did not go hungry.

  Thomas sprawled in a rickety chair near the fire, his chin drooping to his chest. His game leg stretched toward the warmth. His open-mouthed snores competed with the pot bubbling over the flames. Stepping over a sleeping mongrel, Rexana touched his weathered hand.

  He blinked. When his gaze focused upon her, he sat up with a start. "Milady!" He struggled to stand.

  "Do not trouble yourself. I know your leg pains you."

  With a frustrated grunt, Thomas dropped back into the chair. "After many long months. One day, soon, I pray I will be able to walk like a man again."

  "The healer said your wound would heal," Rexana gently reminded him, "but 'twill take a while. You must be patient."

  One of the girls hurried forward with a battered wooden stool. With a nod in thanks, Rexana took it and sat down beside Thomas.

  "May we fetch ye some ale, milady? A bowl of pottage?" Mary asked.

  Rexana's stomach gurgled. She had not thought to pack any fare before she left Tangston, and the steam from the cauldron smelled delicious. Yet, Thomas had five children to feed — including two sons who worked long days in the fields and in the village — and his family had little enough. She could not take their food and drink. "Thank you, but nay."

  Thomas looked at Mary. He flicked his hand, as though signaling her and the girls to leave. Mary lingered, as though questioning the wisdom of his decision, but Thomas gave a sharp nod. She ushered the girls outside. The cottage door banged shut behind them.

  Rexana breathed in, trying to quell her racing pulse. Her stomach tightened even more. She prayed Thomas would give her the information she needed.

  "You have come to speak of Rudd," he said, before she had a chance to speak.

  She nodded. "Sheriff Linford has arrested him for treason. The sheriff refuses to believe he is not guilty. Please, Thomas, I need your help. You can tell him of Rudd's honorable character. You are a faithful subject of the crown, and you know Rudd is loyal too."

  Thomas looked at her brooch, then stared down at the fire. His face shadowed with an odd expression.

  "Thomas?"

  Low, rumbled voices intruded, coming from outside the cottage. She recognized Mary, speaking to her children. Mayhap her sons had come home early, so she told them to stay out of the cottage.

  Rexana closed her mind to the distraction. She leaned forward, her hands clenched into her skirt. "Please, Thomas. You must help me save Rudd."

  The cottage door crashed open.

  A tall, broad shouldered man blocked the light streaming in from outside. The hair on her nape prickled. Awareness and shock rushed through her, a moment before Fane spoke.

  "You are foolish to come here, wife. Thomas knows Rudd is guilty. As do I."

  His blood pulsing hard against his temple, Fane watched Rexana rise to her feet. As her body straightened, her bliaut smoothed over her hips, the simple yellow gown provocative in the smoky shadows.

  Her gaze shone bright with anger. "You followed me."

  "Nay, love. I hunted and found you."

  She continued as though she had not heard him and did not care that Thomas overheard. Her words flew like chunks of ice. "Did you go to the solar, after we spoke? Did you look down from there, see me at the stables, and decide to pursue me? Or did you simply watch from a distance to give the illusion that I had freedom to go, so you could entrap me?"

  He took a step forward. His arms shook with the fury pounding through him. "I did not see you at the stables. If I had, I would not have allowed you to ride out of Tangston's gates. Not when you had promised with such sweetness to come to my bed."

  She flushed. "You could not have stopped me."

  Lust pulsed hot within him, yet he resisted the urge to march forward, grab her arm, and haul her flush against him. To claim her mouth in a kiss. To feel her body quiver with desire and want. He would not take her here, in this humble dirt-floored dwelling, and the next time he touched her, 'twould be to couple with her.

  Aware her defiant stare had not wavered, he said, "You will not leave Tangston on your own again. I will not allow you to recklessly endanger your life. Do you understand?"

  Her lips flattened with resentment. She did not answer.

  Thomas shifted in his chair, while the dog near the fire tucked its tail between its legs
and scurried under a table.

  Fane strode closer. He stood near enough now to catch her arm, if he wished. "You will heed me, Rexana."

  Her chin thrust up a fraction. "Answer me this, husband. How did you know to find me here? How did you know of my friendship with Thomas?"

  Fane smiled. How cunning, that she changed the subject and avoided agreeing to his demand. Yet, he would have a compliant 'aye, milord' from her before their conversation was through. "How? I am a High Sheriff. I have my ways."

  Uncertainty flickered in her eyes, but her chin nudged higher. "Rudd told you?"

  "I did not ask your brother. My men spoke to Thomas yesterday when they questioned the tavern owners and villagers. He freely admitted he knew Rudd. 'Twas difficult for him to tell of Rudd's treachery, yet Thomas is loyal to the king. He felt honor bound to do so."

  Her stunned gaze flew to Thomas, then back to Fane. She blinked, as though unable to believe what she had heard. "Naught you have told me proves my brother is guilty. Did Thomas explain how Rudd supported him and his family over the past months? How Rudd visited every sennight to make sure his leg wound was healing?"

  Thomas's head moved. "I told them, milady."

  With deliberate patience, Fane folded his arms over his chest. "Did he tell you, love, that Rudd asked to use his barn, and paid a sack of coin for the privilege? Your brother planned to meet there with his fellow traitors."

  She gasped.

  Bowing his head, Thomas moaned. "Milady, I am sorry."

  "I do not believe it!" Anguish glittered in her eyes.

  Fane saw the effort it cost her to keep her head held high. "Love, you must accept the truth. Rudd is a traitor."

  "He is not!"

  "I have detailed eye witness accounts of the meetings held in local taverns. Over a score, to be exact. I also have the missive which bears his signature."

  Her lush mouth trembled. " 'Tis forged."

  "The signature is his. Rudd admitted to me, the first time I questioned him, that he signed the document." Fane held his hand out to her. He willed her to place her fingers in his, to accept, at last, what she must. "Come with me back to Tangston. I will show you the evidence."

  "I will not —"

  He loosed a low, warning growl. "Come, wife. My patience wears thin. I have waited long enough for you to accept this." And me, his heart roared. And, by God, me!

  Her breathing became ragged. Her hands clenched and unclenched. She looked down at Thomas. Torment etched her face, yet she graced him with a stiff nod. "Good day."

  "Good day to you, milady," Thomas whispered.

  She swept around the far side of the fire, her gown bright as the leaping flames. She moved well out of reach, as though she believed physical distance could keep her from him.

  "Rexana," Fane called.

  Half way to the door, she faced him. Her loosened braid flipped back over her shoulder. Like a potent physical caress, he again felt its glorious silk wrapped around his wrist. Binding him to her. Her to him.

  "You will never stop me from leaving Tangston alone," she said. "Nor will you keep me from proving my brother's innocence."

  A rough laugh burst from him. "Foolish words, little fig."

  "I mean them."

  He started toward her. She yanked open the door, strode out, and slammed it behind her.

  Spitting a curse, he crossed to the door to wrench it open. She did not even glance back. Her braid swaying side to side, she marched past Thomas's bewildered family and Fane's armed guards, untethered her mare, and swung up onto its back. Even in anger, she moved with sensual grace.

  She would move with such beauty beneath him as he brought her to writhing, moaning pleasure.

  Fane halted and planted his boots in the dirt. "Where do you think you are going?"

  She coiled the leather reins around her wrists. Her eyes glittered with rebellious intent.

  "If you run from me now, you are forever mine."

  She smiled, a disbelieving turn of her lips. With a sharp cry, she wheeled the mare around and spurred it toward the road.

  "We will stop her, milord," a guard yelled, running to his horse.

  "You will follow at a discreet distance, but you will not interfere."

  Frowning, the men glanced at each other. "Milord?"

  Fane swung up onto his destrier. As though attuned to his heightened state, the horse whinnied and sidestepped. Fane's blood roared. He struggled to keep a clear mind, to keep his desire in check for a little longer.

  He fixed his gaze on Rexana. "Obey my orders. The only man to catch Rexana will be me."

  Chapter Seventeen

  Rexana galloped past fields, down pitted dirt lanes, and through groves of sun-dappled trees. She rode until the sun had slipped from the midday sky. Until her wind-whipped hair felt like straw against her cheek. Until the sweaty mare stumbled and, with a reluctant groan, Rexana knew she must stop to let the horse rest.

  As she slowed the animal to a walk, a shiver rippled through her. She had traveled many leagues, yet still, she sensed Fane's presence. Rexana stole a glance over her shoulder again, as she had numerous times during her ride, but saw only distant riders, too far behind and moving too slowly to be pursuing her.

  She shook off her unease. Fane had not come after her. He had only chased her for a league or two. To her amazement and relief, the mare had outrun his destrier, and he had fallen back. At times, she had thought the breeze carried the clop of hoofbeats or the snort of nearby horse, yet each time she swung around, she found herself alone.

  Her imagination toyed with her. Fane had let her go.

  At last, had he accepted that she would never surrender her fierce loyalty to Rudd? That whatever Thomas, the eyewitness accounts and missive implied, she would always believe her brother guiltless? That she could not rest, now more than ever, until she found undeniable proof of his innocence?

  Fane must have. He had let her go.

  Yet, even as her mind offered reassurance, a wild tingle trailed down her spine. A simmering anticipation she could not dismiss.

  Her imagination, again.

  Rexana studied the road ahead, recognizing the familiar stretch near Ickleton. How fitting that her heart had brought her here, to the place that gave her solace. She guided the mare into the ancient trees' cool shadows, then took the winding deer path to the secluded pool.

  As the glade opened before her, she sucked in the calming scents of loam, grass and violets. Her breath rushed out on a half sob. Here, as she had so many times before, she would stretch up her arms to dance.

  Here, she would defeat the anxiety warring within her. Here, she would vanquish the nagging voice that warned Fane was not one to forget a promise.

  Or leave it undone.

  Resisting another shiver, Rexana slid from the mare's back. The horse began to graze. Smoothing her hands down her bliaut, she strolled to the center of the glade. She halted in a shaft of sunlight. Closed her eyes. Called to the ancient place to inspire and enlighten her.

  Reaching her arms up to the sky, she dipped and whirled. Grasses tugged at her bliaut. Butterflies and bees whizzed from the heads of wildflowers. Birds flitted through the tree boughs overhead. Leaves rustled.

  Her soul shuddered. She begged for answers. Resolution.

  If you run from me now, you are forever mine.

  Her inhalation snagged in her throat, like delicate silk caught on a rock. Her body twisted, turned, and arched.

  I have waited long enough for you to accept this.

  Confusion flooded through her. Yearning. Desire. Need.

  She spun faster. Faster.

  Her back arched. Her arms stretched.

  She twirled, faster again.

  "Rexana."

  Had she imagined Fane's voice? Panting, she stumbled to a halt. Her pulse thundered like a galloping horse. As she swept hair from her face, she saw him.

  Fane walked at the glade's edge, holding the destrier's reins in one hand. With unhurrie
d strides, he led the horse toward the pool. Sunlight gleamed on his windswept hair and touched the firm set of his mouth.

  His head tilted, and his gaze locked with hers. His expression held not anger or scorn, but acceptance. Knowing. A promise that what happened now, between them, was inevitable.

  "W - Why did you come here?"

  A faint smile touched his lips. "You brought me here."

  Resentment gnawed at her. "This is my place. I never wished you to find it."

  The destrier's hooves sank into the soft muddy bank. The horse dipped its head to the water to drink. Fane chuckled, released the reins and looked at her. "You speak false, love. You wanted to be chased. I have caught you."

  She gasped. "I did not —"

  "Now, you lie to yourself."