He eased himself against a wall-post, eyelids drooping. ‘No arguments, Brat, I beg you. Tell me about Gil—I take it you brought him here?’
‘Yes, Gil is safe and getting more attention than he can cope with. Louise and Edwige are fighting over him. He is already much recovered, he has eaten well, his colour is better and—’
‘Gil always did like his food.’
She frowned. ‘Yes, but what about you? Have you eaten—shall I fetch you some thing?’
‘Best not, lest you raise suspicions. Anyhow, I managed to persuade a cottager to sell me some bread and meat.’ He yawned. ‘I’m tired more than anything, I ought to get back to Crabbe Wood.’ His eyes opened and he lifted an expressive brow, leaning so close she could feel the heat of his mouth. ‘Wouldn’t want to cause a scandal by being caught in your bed.’
Biting her lip, Aude nodded, though her heart was squeezing at the thought of him creeping back to that cheer less ruin alone.
‘Hugh, I wish—’ She bit off the words.
‘Hmm?’
Briefly, she touched his cheek. It was warm and she could feel the slight prickle of his growing beard. ‘Nothing, except… Oh, Hugh, I really wish you didn’t have to go.’
That dark brow shot upwards. ‘You want me to stay?’
She nodded.
Eyes dancing, he shook his head, but she couldn’t help but notice that for the space of a heart beat, his gaze had dropped to her mouth. ‘I couldn’t possibly put the virtue of the Lady Aude in question.’
‘You did last night.’
‘Last night—’ his wave took in the box-bed and the occupants of the hall beyond the curtain ‘—was different.’
A large hand came to rest on her shoulder, his mouth met hers.
Heat raced through her. Hugh was worn out, he should not be here and she knew he would not stay. Their tongues met, hers was playing with his and he was smiling against her mouth, making tiny noises, noises which, in experienced though she was, told her very plainly that he was enjoying the kiss as much as she. Indeed noises of a similar nature were coming from her throat, before she thought to stop them.
Someone might hear!
She eased back. He murmured a protest, a protest that turned into a yawn. The man was exhausted.
‘A final kiss to send me on my way,’ he said.
Fear engulfed her, a bone-chilling wave of it. If Hugh left, she might never see him again. Such dread, but amazingly, it emboldened her. Lifting her mouth, she reached for his shoulders.
Their eyes held, their breath mingled. And then they were kissing again. Desperately, as though they were starving and kisses were their only nourishment. One of Hugh’s hands was freeing her hair, the other was warm on her breast, shaping it, making it swell and tighten. Aude smothered a gasp at the connection that fired between her breast and belly. ‘Starry tingles.’
‘Mmm?’
‘Nothing.’ Wherever Hugh stroked her, her belly warmed, she was turning to wax, her entire body was molten…
He planted a line of kisses along her jaw.
Her breath caught. A moan was rising in her throat. Casting a guilty look at the bed-curtain, she managed to suppress it. The hangings remained closed, thank God, because Hugh was pushing against her and her muscles had had lost their strength to such an extent that they collapsed on to the mattress with a soft thump.
The bed ropes creaked. A bubble of laughter escaped.
Hugh lifted his head. His eyes were glazed and dark with some thing that had Aude ache with longing.
‘What?’ he breathed.
She gestured at the curtain. ‘If they knew…’
‘I shall go in a moment.’ He gave her a lop-sided smile. ‘You may banish me at midnight.’
Chapter Eleven
Aude permitted herself the luxury of relaxing in his arms. Hugh was, it would seem, as eager to caress her as she was to caress him. And he had said he would go in a moment, he had promised. He made no protest when she ran her fingers through that wind-swept hair; in truth, he made that tiny sound again, the one that made her want to snatch him to her and kiss him until he begged for mercy.
For her part, she made not a sound when he in turn wound his fingers into her hair, stroking it out, spreading it on the pillow behind her, trailing it down her breasts. He pulled back an inch to look at her. Her cheeks burned.
‘What?’
He smiled and she watched, fascinated, as his cheeks darkened. Hugh, blushing? He shook his head, running his finger tips down the length of a tress as though it were the costliest silk from the Eastern Empire. Her breath caught. ‘Nothing,’ he murmured, ‘save that I have longed to do this for an age.’
‘You have?’
‘Hush.’
He was back to stroking her breast, reaching for the ties at the neck of her night gown. She clamped her lips together, to hold in the moan. Her breath sounded too loud, but she was unable to quieten it. They were alone on a soft, lantern-lit island in the dark, and there wasn’t enough air. Hugh must feel the same, he too was short of breath.
Long fingers skimmed the neck of her night robe, loosening it, sliding the fabric to one side. She twisted to help him.
By now, Hugh was lying half across her, the weight of a leg over hers. She made no protest. His lips were nudging along her collar bone; he was tugging at the linen of her bed gown.
She ought to be shocked.
His sister, his squire and her people lay but a few feet away on the other side of that curtain—but her body simply did not care. Aude might be innocent, but where Hugh was concerned her body seemed to have some secret knowledge. It was arching towards Hugh in such a way that he could not fail to gain access to her breast. Carnal matters were suddenly no mystery, but the most natural thing in the world. One would have thought she wanted his mouth on her—
Oh!
Delight shivered through her.
‘All right, Aude?’
‘Yes.’
Was that voice hers? She hardly recognised it. Husky, dreamy, abandoned…
Clenching and un clenching her fingers on his scalp, she held down a whimper and strained towards him.
Oh!
Hugh’s lips and tongue knew exactly what she wanted, they…
A whimper escaped. ‘Oh! S…sorry.’
Hugh’s head came up.
‘Again,’ she whispered. ‘Please.’
His lips curved, his head lowered and the magic began all over again. The starry little tingles. The sensation of melting. She kept on stroking his hair, his ears, his neck. The light wavered.
‘Hugh, oh, I never dreamed…I had no idea…’
‘Brat, you are such an innocent,’ he responded softly and went on kissing her breast.
Frowning, she tugged at his hair. ‘Hugh?’
‘Mmm?’
Her cheeks were aflame and when their eyes met, Hugh must have noticed for he pulled back, angling his body so they were lying side by side. A gentle finger ran over her cheek bone. His leg rested possessively over hers. She was breathing in his scent, and heaven knew that was dizzying enough, but to feel Hugh’s weight pressing her into the mattress…if he but knew the effect he had on her…
She cleared her throat. A warm smile was curving his mouth. Her heart gave a crazy lurch. Hugh knew. Hugh knew exactly the effect he had on her and somehow—this was shaming, though for the life of her she could not see why—he also knew that he was the first man to move her in this way.
He said nothing, simply wound his fingers into her hair before leaning forwards to catch her earlobe gently between his teeth. She shivered and drew in a shaky breath.
‘Hugh, no one but you has touched me like this.’
His eyes darkened. ‘For that I am very glad.’ A warm hand lifted and trailed its sensuous way down the side of her neck, her shoulders, her breast, watching, with some sat is faction she thought, as her breast tightened.
‘How did you know?’
Sighing, he drew the e
dges of her neckline together. ‘You were betrothed to Martin when you were very young and Martin never touched you.’
She nodded. ‘Yes, we made a vow.’
‘A vow?’ A dark eyebrow lifted. ‘That is news to me.’
‘We pledged to remain chaste until our marriage.’
Hugh held her gaze. ‘I didn’t know about the vow, but it doesn’t surprise me. Martin never was a…woman’s man.’
‘What do you mean? Years ago, Edouard made a similar comment—I had no idea what he meant.’
Thus it was that Aude lay back on her pillows in the box-bed with Hugh in her arms, and listened with growing dismay and astonishment while Hugh gave a hushed explanation of what it meant when a man could not love women, but instead—
‘Sir Jean!’ Aude gasped as the realisation hit home. ‘Martin loved Sir Jean!’
Sir Jean was a knight whose company Martin had seldom done without.
‘During my time at Beaumont, Sir Jean and Martin were in separable,’ she said, thinking it through. ‘I thought they were simply good comrades as you and Edouard are, but now…now I see it was quite different.’
‘Quite different.’ Giving a huge yawn, Hugh pillowed his head on her breast. ‘Count Martin and Sir Jean were lovers.’
‘And is it common, then, for one man to love another in that way?’
Hugh shrugged. ‘Fairly common.’
‘But it is obviously not talked about openly?’
‘No, some consider it a sin.’
‘Do you?’
He shook his head.
‘What a fool I was not to realise.’ Aude felt a frown form. ‘Did everyone know that Count Martin could not love women?’
Lifting his head, he gave her a straight look, half-frowning himself. ‘Some people undoubtedly did; as I said, it is not some thing that is much discussed.’
She gave him a little shove, and edged back. ‘But you endorsed my betrothal to him!’
‘Yes, I did.’ A wary note entered his voice.
‘You did this although you knew he would never really want me?’
With a grimace, Hugh propped his head on an elbow. ‘Aude, Martin liked you. He was an honourable man who would have made a good husband.’
But Aude had not finished. It was as though this new under standing about the man she had been betrothed to for four years had broken a delicate spell, and the delicious melting feeling engendered by Hugh’s kisses had entirely gone. Anger was taking its place. He had made a fool of her! ‘You knew my marriage to Count Martin would have been a pretence? That Martin would never love me properly?’
‘He would have done his duty, Aude, I am sure.’
‘But what would he have felt? He would have hated it, he would have hated me!’
Hugh shook his head. ‘Not so, there are many kinds of love. Martin was very fond of you. Aude, he came to love you, I am sure. He was always good to you.’
‘Yes, but—’ Aude fell silent while she struggled to digest what Hugh had told her. She had thought she loved Count Martin, but how could she have done? What she had felt for him had been a delusion. And that vow they had made—everything fell into place. ‘I never knew him.’
Hugh sighed. ‘Yes, you did. You knew you had a good man, one who cared for you while Edouard was fighting in England. And he did care for you.’
‘Ye…es.’
‘You loved him.’
‘How could I have done, when I knew so little about him?’ His hand came towards her, she batted it away. ‘Everyone was laughing at me, I suppose.’
He shook his head. ‘Not at all.’
‘Hugh, tell me one thing—why did you endorse the betrothal, knowing as you did that any marriage between me and Count Martin would have been a sham?’
‘You were a girl of thirteen when you went to Beaumont—how could you be told about such things? At any rate, after your father’s death, Edouard and I were answering the Duke’s call to arms. Time was short, the matter urgent. You asked for Martin. Aude, I thought you wanted him.’ He hugged her to him.
‘And that is why you endorsed the betrothal, because I asked for him?’
‘I knew you would be safe with Martin while Edouard was in England. You could not be left at Crèvecoeur—the steward there was not to be trusted.’
Her anger receding, she tipped her head to one side. ‘It was important to you that I should be safe?’
‘Of course.’ Hugh’s voice was becoming slurred. ‘Had to place you safely before we embarked for England.’
His hold on her was slackening, his body seemed heavier. Some hurt remained over this revelation concerning Count Martin and Sir Jean, but Hugh desperately needed rest. Aude couldn’t bring herself to force more discussion on him.
She pressed a kiss on his forehead and inhaled his scent. Hugh. A male scent that for as long as she could remember had been entangled with various childish longings. With yearning for some thing she had never dared name, for the heir to the County of Freyncourt had been so far beyond Aude’s reach that even the thought of an alliance between the two of them was for bid den. But the for bid den was not all that came to mind when she breathed in his scent. There were thoughts of friendship, of safety. Her heart swelled. It was good to know that four years ago in Dives, when he had been making battle-plans, he had wanted her safe.
And Hugh was in the right about one point: Martin had been good to her. She might not have known about Martin’s love for Sir Jean, but she had been able to talk to Martin in a way that had been impossible with anyone else, except perhaps Hugh himself.
‘Hugh?’
Silence. His head was a weight on her breast. His breathing was soft, his hold had loosened.
Asleep? Hugh could not sleep here, not in her bed!
‘Hugh?’
No response.
Gently, she ruffled his hair. ‘Hugh?’
Nothing. Not a movement, not a murmur. Just that large, beautifully muscled body lying relaxed and heavy beside her.
It was quiet in the main part of the hall, there were no murmuring voices on the other side of the bed hangings. Everyone save Cedric was likely to be asleep; no one would disturb her before morning. And Hugh was exhausted, it would be cruel to wake him when he was sleeping so soundly…
What harm could there be in allowing him to rest here for another minute or two? No one would know.
She opened the horn-lantern shutter and blew out the candle.
Yes, she would let him sleep for an hour before waking him. Then he must go back to the villa in Crabbe Wood, because when dawn came he simply could not be found in her bed.
Faint light was edging round the bed curtain and from the hall came the scrape and clatter of the boards being set for break fast. Aude’s mind was sluggish.
Someone laughed. A cockerel was crowing out in the yard and further off, she could hear the soft lowing of a cow. For the second morning running a heavy weight lay against her. A warm masculine scent teased her nostrils. Hugh.
Holy Mother, Hugh was still here!
The last traces of sleep fled. His face lay on the pillow but two inches from hers, his breath stirred her hair. His eyes were closed, those long lashes lying dark across his cheek bones. He was deep, deep asleep. One warrior’s arm was wrapped round her waist and a long, well-muscled leg was hooked firmly over hers.
Heart pounding, Aude thought quickly. She had had little sleep on the previous night, which probably explained why she had nodded off rather than staying awake in order to see Hugh safely on his way. And as for Hugh, sleep had been scant for him in the last couple of months; exhaustion had him in its grip. ‘Hugh!’ She shook his shoulder.
His lashes lifted and those breath taking eyes stared into hers. His lips curved into a smile, a smile that froze almost before it was formed. ‘Hell!’ He jerked upright, cracking his head on the planked ceiling. ‘I should have been long gone.’ Grimacing, he was ruefully rubbing the top of his skull when his eyes went wide and the colour drained fr
om his cheeks. ‘What’s that? Do you hear it?’
The serving girls were chattering as they laid out the break fast platters, but surely there was nothing that would make Hugh go pale like that unless…she caught her breath. ‘Horses! Someone is riding into the village.’
There was more soft swearing from Hugh. He grabbed his sword and reached for the tapestry on the back wall.
Diving at him, Aude hooked her fingers round his belt. ‘No! It is well past dawn, you are bound to be seen!’
‘Brat, far better I am discovered outside, than in here, warming your bed.’
‘Good day. Is this Alfold Hall?’
The faint chink of harness floated in; a saddle creaked as someone dismounted. ‘Yes, sir.’
‘And is Lady Aude at home?’ The voice—surely it was familiar?—grew louder. The newcomer had entered the hall.
Clinging to Hugh’s belt—Hugh’s jaw was set as he worked at the planking—Aude braced herself for the reply.
‘Lord Edouard, welcome!’ Edwige said.
Lord Edouard! Her brother had arrived in Alfold!
‘Good morning, Edwige. Where is my sister?’
The sound of Edouard’s voice had Aude’s blood running cold. She felt an insane urge to laugh. ‘It is Edouard!’ she hissed, conscious that she was teetering on the edge of hysteria. ‘Hugh, Edouard is here!’
Hugh looked at her, a line between his brows. ‘Of all the times…’
‘What shall we do?’
Footsteps came briskly towards them and Aude wished herself, and Hugh, a thousand miles away. Her thoughts were racing.
The shame of being discovered together! Anyone would only have to take one glance at Hugh—looking so handsome and so disreputable, with the shadow of his growing beard—and they must peg him for a seducer. He had lulled her too well with his pretty words—‘I have longed to do this for an age.’ Lulled her, so that despite her shock at learning about Count Martin, she had relaxed enough to fall asleep herself.
Wessex Weddings 05 - Her Banished Lord Page 15