Templeton, Julia

by The Bargain

  "You fancy Galeran, do you not?"

  Elena turned and smiled. "Indeed, I do. Do you think that silly? Me, a woman who is old enough to be his mother?"

  "Nay, I do not think it is silly at all... and you are not that old."

  "I am three and thirty."

  "You do not look it, and what does age matter? Look how old your husband was, and none seemed to be concerned at the difference in your ages."

  Elena laughed without mirth. '"Tis different for men. They can marry anyone they wish, and age does not figure into it. But for women, we are considered old by the time we have met our twentieth year. Used, discarded, and once you have children, men often look elsewhere. It is the curse of our kind, I suppose."

  "It is most unfair."

  Elena nodded. "Aye, 'tis a man's world, my dear. It always will be."

  "I wish I had been born a man."

  "I love your spirit, dearest Aleysia," Elena said, laughing. "Nearly as much as my brother loves you."

  Aleysia's heart jolted and her cheeks burned. "Your brother does not love me."

  Elena took a sip of wine. "He cares for you. You have crept beneath his skin. Something no other woman has done. Love. Lust. It is all the same in the end."

  "Is it really? I thought there would be a difference."

  "Lust is when you want a person so badly that you think you might perish if you do not get him. Or when your heart pumps nearly out of your chest when he enters a room," Elena said.

  Aleysia knew that feeling well. Ironically, it seemed that a room would light up when Renaud entered, and that same light extinguished when he left. "What of love?"

  Elena lifted a dark brow. "Love is when you care so much for another, you cannot imagine life without them. It's all consuming. You love everything about him, wonder about him when he's not with you. Trust me, Aleysia. You will know when you are in love."

  "Have you ever been in love?"

  The sides of Elena's mouth curved. "Once, a very long time ago. I was a little younger than you when I fell in love with a groom."

  "Did he love you as well?"

  Elena smiled softly. "Aye, he did. I will never forget the first time he kissed me. 'Twas heaven."

  "What happened?"

  "My father discovered our liaison. I think it was one of his soldiers who told him, a man who secretly coveted me for his own. Unfortunately, the groom was sent away, and I never saw him again."

  "I'm sorry. How devastated you must have been."

  Elena shrugged. "I cried myself to sleep many a night, but the heart often heals itself in time, and I survived it."

  Aleysia stole a glance over at Renaud, relieved to find him deep in conversation with one of his men-at-arms. "What of his betrothed?"

  Setting her goblet down, Elena leaned forward. "Morgana was a spoiled, pampered woman. A beauty, yes, but she cared nothing for others. I was never fond of her, and well she knew it."

  "I understand she was furious when she heard of Renaud's leman."

  Elena grinned coyly. "Her pride could not stand that Renaud wanted another, especially when he was to wed her, the most sought-after woman in the French court. It didn't matter that his leman had been his lover long before his betrothal, or that she was one of Renaud's many mistresses. Nay, Morgana could not bear the humiliation."

  "So she attacked Renaud?"

  "Aye, she did that, but there is more. Feeling slighted, Morgana took a lover, certain she would win back Renaud's affection out of jealousy alone. Unfortunately, she became pregnant with that man's child and tried to pass it off as Renaud's—thereby trapping him into marriage. Thank goodness her lover came forward and admitted the liaison. That was when Morgana attacked Renaud. It caused quite a scandal, I must say."

  "So he never did love her?"

  "Nay."

  How relieved Aleysia was at that simple word.

  "He has never loved anyone. But you, my dear, might just be the one to change all that."

  "I will never love him," Aleysia blurted, feeling stupid and childish the moment the words came out.

  "Sometimes our minds and hearts conflict, but perhaps one day they will collide and you will feel differently." Elena glanced over at Galeran again, who still spoke to the servant girl. "Do you know that the only reason Renaud asked Philip along to York was because he did not want him near you?"

  Oddly, the knowledge that Renaud was jealous of Philip pleased her. "Nay, I thought him a good soldier."

  "I heard on good authority that he nearly killed Philip in practice. Indeed, see for yourself. There, to the right. Philip is sporting a bruised face."

  Aleysia found Philip amongst the other soldiers, and he indeed looked battered and bruised.

  "You see, Aleysia, as women we do have some power over men. Think you Renaud would have paid Philip any mind if he hadn't been conversing with you earlier? Also, it did not help that Philip gave you a flower. It is up to us to use that power to our advantage."

  "How?"

  "To make men jealous. To make them want us. To burn for us, until they can no longer contain their desire. Watch. You see how Galeran speaks to the servant wench? Though it seems like he is intent on everything she says, I believe he is watching us from the corner of his eye." Elena took the shawl from her shoulders and let it fall beneath the table, where she then kicked it off the high dais and onto the floor below. With a wink, Elena turned to the man at her right. "Richard, is it?" she asked the brawny soldier, who appeared surprised by the sudden attention. "I have dropped my shawl. Would you be so kind as to fetch it for me?"

  The man smiled widely. "Indeed, my lady."

  As the soldier went after the shawl, Elena watched his every move, as though she could not take her eyes off him. "Now tell me, is Galeran still speaking to the servant, or is he watching me?"

  Aleysia glanced where Galeran had been, and found him instead heading their way, or more specifically, toward the shawl. "He is heading for us."

  Elena grinned. "You see?"

  Galeran beat Richard to it. The older man did not look at all pleased as Galeran snatched up the shawl.

  "And just as I have made Galeran jealous, you, too, have the same power over Renaud. And I know just the man who will make him sit up and take notice." She nodded toward Philip. "Go ahead, flirt with him. Even if it is just a tilt of your head. The slightest nod."

  "But Renaud will not notice. He has been conversing with those men since he arrived in the hall." Aleysia sat back in her seat, took a sip of wine, and looked in Philips direction. To her dismay the younger man did not even glance her way, but it seemed his friend next to him had noticed her staring, for he nudged Philip, who in turn looked at Aleysia. With a wide grin, the young Frenchman lifted his goblet in mock toast. She did the same, took a drink of her wine, all the while keeping eye contact with the young man.

  Elena leaned forward and whispered, "Excellent. Renaud is positively furious. Now be discreet, and every once in a while look at Philip while you eat. No lingering stares, but rather quick peeks. Mayhap flash a smile and then look away. Flirt a little."

  Aleysia grinned at Philip again, and the young man smiled, and then added a wink.

  At her side Elena laughed under her breath. "My brother is coming out of his skin."

  Cheeks blazing, Aleysia stole a glance at Renaud. His eyes were narrowed as he watched her intently.

  "Now lift your glass to your lips, take a sip, and watch Philip over the rim. After you set the wine down, lick your lips and then look away."

  She did exactly as Elena said, though not quite as delicately. But the move was effective: Renaud was already walking toward her.

  Elena covered her laughter with a false cough as her brother exchanged seats with the person directly to Aleysia's left.

  "My lord," Aleysia said with a curt nod.

  "Aleysia." His voice was harsh.

  "Do you not care for the venison, my lord? You barely touched your plate."

  "I am shocked you noticed
." Again his tone was clipped and curt.

  Aleysia wondered if perhaps making him jealous was unwise. After all, didn't she want to gain his trust? "I am not very hungry," she said, managing a bite of venison.

  He watched her as she chewed, his gaze on her lips. "And why are you not hungry, my lady?"

  She wiped her fingers on a cloth. "Because my brother is leaving me on the morrow, which saddens me greatly."

  "You do not appear sad to me."

  "Perhaps I hide it well."

  "You cannot be in too much pain if you are flirting with a mere stranger."

  So he had indeed noticed Philip. "Stranger? Whomever do you mean, my lord?"

  Renaud's jaw clenched. "I saw the exchange between you and Philip."

  "I was not flirting, but merely thanking him for the flower, my lord. Plus, he is not a stranger, but a friend."

  "Do not encourage the boy, Aleysia."

  She took a sip of wine, enjoying the warmth as it slid down her throat. Setting the goblet down, she asked, "Why?"

  He shook his head as though confounded by the question. "You are my woman, and I will not have you flirting with every man that crosses your path. 'Tis not right to promote a liaison, especially in the company of your lover."

  Hearing the word lover from his lips made her insides burn. Such an intimate word—one that conjured up one wicked image after another.

  The possession in his eyes took her aback, but the jealousy she saw there even more so. She had never understood before that she could have such power over a man. Especially a man such as Renaud de Wulf. It was both frightening and exhilarating.

  She looked away and saw that Galeran sat on a bench beside Elena, shoving the other knight's food away in his haste to make room. Renaud shook his head, obviously aware of the bond that was forming between Elena and Galeran. Elena, whose shawl was firmly on her shoulders, glanced at Aleysia and smiled.

  One of Renaud's guests stood and clapped his hands, until the entire hall fell silent. "To show our appreciation for your fine hospitality, de Wulf, we have a gift for you. One we hope you will all enjoy."

  The sound of drums and pipes played in a seductive tune, which carried up to the high ceiling.

  Four dark-skinned men entered the hall, all wearing red vests embroidered with gold. Following them were six women, wearing cropped, sleeveless chemises made from a sheer cloth threaded with gold. All around them, men clapped loud, their voices raised in praise for such a spectacle. Aleysia sat up straight, conscious that Renaud's attention was fully on the women, their skirts a combination of blood-red to bright orange that floated around their slender legs. Golden chains encircled their hips and golden bracelets with bells encased small wrists and dainty ankles, causing a melodious tune with every movement.

  Many of the women at the lower tables took their leave, obviously not enjoying the spectacle, some pushing stunned children toward the door, while others sat intrigued. Indeed, most of the men shouted their praises loudly.

  Aleysia herself felt a sudden desire to leave, and even moved to stand, when a hand clasped her wrist. It was not Renaud, but Elena who leaned forward and whispered, "Stay. Watch. You may learn something. Watch how they use their bodies, particularly their hips. Does it remind you of something else?"

  Aleysia felt her cheeks burn. No wonder men enjoyed watching such a display. In fact, strangely enough, she felt aroused watching the men and women dance to the pounding rhythm.

  Sparing a glance at Renaud, she noticed his attention focused on a large-breasted blonde. Her breasts were so large, the cloth barely covered her nipples.

  Her hips were wide and womanly and as she rotated them from side to side in a circular motion, the men around the hall yelled their approval.

  The blonde smiled seductively as she twirled, the motion sending her skirts flying up, giving everyone a view of her long legs and firm buttocks.

  Aleysia scanned the hall to find every man focused on the one woman. To her horror, she felt jealous that they all wanted her, this woman who danced for money, and no doubt did far more for the right price.

  Mayhap Renaud wanted the big-breasted blonde in his bed tonight? The very thought made her furious.

  She watched him from the corner of her eye. Damn! He certainly was entranced; taking a sip of wine, he watched the woman over the rim of the goblet. Aleysia glanced at Philip, hoping Renaud would catch her flirting, but even Philip had become distracted by the dancers.

  The music picked up in tempo, and so did the dancers. They fell into a straight line, directly in front of the high table. The blonde gypsy danced in the middle, right before Renaud. The whore's light eyes were outlined with black kohl, her lips stained red. Her long, straight hair, darker than Aleysia's, fell past her hips, like a shimmering veil of silk.

  Her hips moved fast, back and forth in a way Aleysia had never before seen. The men applauded and she moved faster, rotating her hips harder. With every second that passed, Aleysia found herself more irritated, and she dug her nails into her palms.

  What was wrong with her? Why should she care that Renaud looked like he was ready to jump over the table, grab the woman up in his arms, and take her back to his bed?

  The same bed where he had taken her virginity!

  Aleysia took a long drink of wine. She could feel Renaud watching her, which surprised her since she thought he hadn't taken his eyes off the wench who was still undulating before him.

  Elena whispered in her ear, "Play the game, Aleysia. Remember that there are more than women here." She motioned to one of the dark-haired gypsies, his skin glistening with oil.

  His gold eyes shone brightly in the dark room, and as he flung off his vest, she saw how strong his body was. Not as powerful and muscular as Renaud, but still appealing. He came closer to the high dais and lifted one of the women up in his arms, to where she stood on his shoulders. His muscles bunched with the strain and Aleysia smiled when he glanced at her. The young man smiled in return, flashing white teeth, before turning his attention back to the woman on his shoulders.

  Aleysia jumped when she felt a hand on her thigh. She looked down at where Renaud's hand rested, then up at him.

  He smiled as their eyes met, and before she knew what she was doing, she placed her hand over his, her fingers sliding between his long ones.

  Strangely, relief washed over her, along with a heat that settled low into her belly.

  His gray eyes searched hers and she could see the pleasure there.

  The music stopped abruptly and everyone around them came to their feet, applauding loudly. Aleysia lifted her hands to do likewise, but Renaud held the one hand firmly. "Are you ready to see your brother, Aleysia?"

  Excitement rushed along her spine and she nodded. "Indeed, my lord. I am."

  CHAPTER 14

  They walked the stairs in silence. Neither one had said a word since the gypsies had left the hall. Aleysia had been sick to her stomach when she heard Renaud invite the guests to stay for an extended time, fearful the gypsies would stay, too. The blonde-haired gypsy had not been able to hide her excitement or her desire for Renaud, whom she kept watching under thick lashes. The woman had to have noticed that Aleysia and Renaud held hands beneath the table. A clear sign they were lovers, but as Elena had said, some women did not care if a man was taken or not. If they desired that person, then they would stop at nothing to get him in their bed.

  Aleysia had never hated another woman so much in her life.

  "You are meeting with your men so soon?"

  "I have matters to attend to beforehand."

  Aleysia wondered if that matter wore a gold top and a red and orange skirt.

  "Will you come for me after your meeting, my lord? Or do you wish me to sleep elsewhere this evening?"

  He frowned as he stared at her, and then she saw him comprehend the question for his lips curved just the slightest bit. "Why do you ask, Aleysia?"

  "I thought perhaps you would want to spend time alone with your guest
s."

  "I consider all three barons my good friends, but that does not mean I desire to be alone with them."

  She frowned. "You know I was not speaking of the men."

  "I did not invite the gypsies, Aleysia."

  "Did you not, my lord? It seemed you were well acquainted with at least one of them."

  "Which one would that be?" he asked, stopping and taking a lock of Aleysia's hair, wrapping it about his finger.

  She looked down to where his thumb and finger stroked the strands, remembering the feel of those long, strong fingers in her slick passage. "The wanton dancing before you."

  "I saw no one dancing for me. They danced for all of us."

  "Then you must be blind, for she was doing everything she could to gain your attention." Aleysia lifted her arms over her head and mimicked the gypsy's movements as best she could.

  Renaud's hand fell to his side, and he leaned back against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched her.

  "Does that not look familiar, my lord?"

  His gaze slid from hers, making a slow path down her body, stopping at her breasts for a moment before moving farther down.

  She turned in a circle, just as the wanton had, swaying her hips to and fro. When she faced Renaud again there was no mistaking the lust in his eyes—which stopped her cold.

  What had Elena said? To watch and learn. How smart her new friend was. The look in Renaud's silver eyes made her nipples harden and gave her a tingle right between her legs.

  Renaud moved toward her and pulled her into his arms, kissing her hard.

  His cock pressed against her belly and he pulled up her skirts.

  She stepped away, looking up into his passion-filled eyes.

  "I want you now," he said, his words low and husky, kissing her jaw, her neck.

  "Here? Are you mad?"

  He kissed her again, then lifted her in his arms. He took the steps two at a time, and pushed open the door of his chamber. A moment later they were inside the room and Aleysia's back was against the hard door. He lifted her gown with one hand while untying the cord of his braies with the other. "I need you. Now," he said, as he lifted her legs. "Lock your ankles behind my waist."