Alienor cared for naught but Dagobert’s kisses. He kissed her temples and eyelids, the tip of her nose, her earlobe, then traced the burning trail down her throat to the neckline of her kirtle. The thunder rumbled at closer proximity, the leaves of the trees outside the shelter of the cave whipping in the flurry of wind before the storm, but Alienor had found a haven.
This storm she welcomed with all her heart.
Her hair fell loose from its braid, the long tresses spilling over her shoulders, and Alienor felt Dagobert’s fingers slowly combing through their length. She glanced up to find his regard warm upon her, his eyes bright as he surveyed her. As she watched, he lifted one hand and kissed a tendril of her hair that had wound around his palm.
Alienor smiled at the gesture, warmth replacing the chill in her bones when he smiled in return. A mingling of Alaric’s easy humor and Dagobert’s passion burned in his eyes. He tipped her chin with one finger and she parted her lips in silent invitation, reveling in the surety of his touch when his lips closed firmly over hers again. This kiss was an even more ardent demand and Alienor responded with the fervor of her own passion, matching him touch for touch.
Strong fingers unlaced the neck of her kirtle, and she arched her back to grant access to those questing lips, loving the feel of his lips on her skin. He kissed the flickering pulse below her collarbone as if acknowledging it, his mouth caressing and teasing as he continued downward then flicked his tongue across one nipple.
Alienor cried out at the fire that raced through her from that aching point once his mouth closed over it. Dagobert’s hands locked around her waist, granting her no escape from his touch. He lifted her up as he suckled her breast, laving the nipple with his tongue, kissing and nibbling until she twisted against him in desperation. She ached for the release she had missed since he had abandoned her bed. He lifted his head and cast her a mischievous grin that made her heart leap. Then he ducked to take the other nipple in his mouth, his teasing arousing her impossibly more.
Just when she thought she could bear no more, he claimed her lips again, his hands rising to bracket her ribs. Alienor caught her breath when his thumbs brushed against her swollen nipples and she felt him smile as she arched against him, a slave to his caress.
The edges of Dagobert’s thumbs stroked her nipples and Alienor thought she would go mad from the pleasure. Lightning flashed and the cave was briefly illuminated, the answering crack of thunder loud and close. The rain fell with renewed vigor, pounding into the ground an arm’s length and half a world away. The horses stirred as they sensed the rage of the storm, but Alienor was safe within Dagobert’s embrace.
She gasped his name and held tightly his shoulders as he caressed her, stumbling when he bent suddenly before her. His hands slid beneath the hem of her kirtle and swept up her thighs, his eyes dancing with intent. Removing her kirtle and chemise in one upward sweep, he straightened once more and tossed the garments aside.
The chill of the air struck Alienor’s bare skin but she was oblivious to its bite, so amazed was she at the delight in Dagobert’s gaze as he looked upon her. Her nipples tightened still tighter at his attention and the cold, her color rising as he met her gaze with a smile.
“Let me look for a moment,” he murmured. “I have imagined the sight of you so many times, but have not done your beauty justice.” In that moment Alienor could not have refused him anything. He offered her his hand and she took it, his warm fingers closing over hers as he lifted her hand high, turning her in a tight circle once before him. Rain fell in sheets right outside the cave, sealing the two of them in a sanctuary where no other could intrude.
“You are beautiful, my Alienor,” Dagobert breathed and her heart sang at his pleasure. She stepped toward him happily and he closed his arm around her waist, his eyes dark as he bent to kiss her. Alienor shivered at the cold press of his mail and Dagobert lifted his head with a fleeting frown. He swung his fur-lined mantle from his shoulders.
“I forget your welfare too easily, my lady, and apologize for that.”
She could take no offense at his carelessness when he wrapped the cloak securely around her and smiled down at her, like a man smitten. The fur was still dry despite the inclement weather and Alienor nestled within it, knowing that ’twas the residual heat of her husband’s body that clung to the pelts and now touched her skin.
Dagobert slid his thumb across the fullness of her bottom lip as if he could not keep himself from touching her, then sighed again. He stepped quickly to retrieve a pair of dry blankets from his horse’s packs. He spread one on the dry ground against the cave wall and scooped Alienor up to deposit her upon it like an ancient queen reclining before her subjects, then draped the second over her. Alienor felt warmth spread through her and she smiled up at him, earning herself another sweetly thorough kiss that did not satisfy the ache within her for his touch.
“We shall go hungry this night should you regard me like that much longer, my lady,” Dagobert threatened in a teasing tone.
Alienor laughed, watching with pleasure as a mischievous grin curved his lips. It seemed they would begin again, and she welcomed the opportunity.
“I am famished,” she replied.
“As am I,” he responded then winked. “But not just for a hot meal.” They laughed easily together and Alienor felt new confidence in their happy future.
“I should assist you,” she said and began to rise, but Dagobert placed a heavy hand on her shoulder.
“You should stay warm,” he countered. “There is little enough to do this night.”
When she would have argued further, he pressed his finger gently against her lips to silence her, replacing that touch with his lips when she smiled in acquiescence. His kiss was too short for her satisfaction, then his lips feathered over her eyelids. Alienor let her eyes close, surprised when she opened them again to find a merry fire blazing just inside the lip of the cave.
That some time had passed was clear, for the two horses stood unsaddled against the far wall and the darkness of the storm had been replaced with the shadows of early evening. Her wet clothes had been spread out before the fire to dry and Alienor propped herself up on one elbow to look around. The rain still fell, but its pace was more fitful now, and of Dagobert there was no sign.
Dagobert’s euphoric mood did not even last until he reached the shallow stream he had noted earlier. The incessant rain made him reconsider his hopes for the future. What sort of fool was he to think of days ahead with Alienor and their son? He sharpened a stick with more ferocity than the task required. ’Twas most likely that he would never lay eyes on the babe, should things continue to go so poorly.
He glanced back up the hills, checking that the smoke from the fire was not discernible against the flat gray of the overcast sky. What matter if Alienor softened to his touch so invitingly? He flicked another speculative glance upward, wondering whether she truly slept, and returned his attention to his fishing with a vengeance.
Jordan’s shrewd guesses and hasty departure had numbered Dagobert’s days. There was the truth of it. ’Twas only a matter of time until he was brought before the king, for in his heart, Dagobert feared that the rallied attack they had planned these years past was now doomed to failure.
What manner of man was he to court the favor of a lady who would soon be widowed? Was it not better that Alienor be left with a child to love and no tender feelings toward the babe’s dead sire? He would be found a traitor and condemned. It would be simpler for her if she could deny him. Their marriage had been arranged. Few would expect her to have tender feelings for her spouse in a matter of months. Would it not be easier for her to find satisfaction with another man if she did not mourn him?
Dagobert’s gut tightened at that last unwelcome thought and he impaled a fish in the creek with more viciousness than the task required.
He would not be selfish in this matter. From this moment forth, he would think of his wife’s future.
For he, Dagobert was
nigh certain, had none.
Something had changed for the worse, just when Alienor thought matters came aright. The curt warrior had returned from that foray from the cave, replacing the tender lover who had so beguiled her and that man had remained thereafter.
By the time a fortnight had passed since their departure from Montsalvat, she had endured fourteen days and nights of grim silence. Alienor thought she might scream at the tension between herself and her lord husband.
Not a kind word did he spare her, nor even a word that was not absolutely essential, be it tender or not. ’Twas not the weather that ailed him, for the rain had ceased after that first night. The spring sunlight was liable to warm any heart, any heart but the stone lodged where her husband’s heart should have been.
Alienor had ridden alone since the first day and by her own choice. She was unwilling to have so little distance between them that her vulnerability to her husband’s touch would be so obvious. He had made no objection, not even a comment, a fact that did little to reassure Alienor.
As they rode steadily northward, she thought more about taking the final pledges of the parfait, the Cathar vows of poverty and chastity, once her babe was born. He would have no right to touch her then, and that seemed a fitting price for his ability to ignore her presence. It was one matter for her to decide to deny his conjugal rights, quite another for him to appear to have no interest in them.
Dagobert stopped yet again, peering up and down the road with narrowed eyes, listening. He had done as much many times on this day, and Alienor became annoyed with the delay. Enough of the road! she wanted to shout at him. Let us simply reach whatever destination we ride for, that I might have a bath and a decent night’s sleep!
But Alienor remained silent, knowing that he would simply give her that slow, thoughtful regard as he had so often of late, then silently climb back into his saddle and continue as if she had not spoken. He frowned now and pursed his lips, then glanced back.
Alienor’s heart skipped then her lips parted that he addressed her.
“’Tis a fortnight since we left, is it not?” he asked.
Alienor nodded. “Aye.”
He nodded in turn, frowning anew at the road. “’Tis most curious,” he murmured, almost as if he spoke to himself.
Alienor looked up and down the road, only to see leaves unfurling and spring flowers rising from the new grass. There was naught curious at all. She turned back to her husband in time to see him shake his head, then swing up into his saddle again and put his spurs to his destrier.
To Alienor’s increasing puzzlement, this sequence was repeated with slight variation many times over the next few days. Dagobert stopped often to listen, his expression clear evidence that he did not hear what he expected. He even left her concealed in the forest once while he rode into a small village for some mysterious purpose. His brow was furrowed more deeply when he returned.
Even Alienor, with her limited skills in the woods, could see that they had been traveling repeatedly over the same terrain for more than a week. They remained within a tightly defined area, riding on seldom-used paths that became familiar. They never did encounter another soul, for when the breaking of twigs or sound of footfalls betrayed another’s presence, Dagobert immediately led both horses into the brush. There they waited with bated breath until the sounds passed.
The paths themselves were a tangle of undergrowth even this early in the season. The brambles tugged at Alienor’s skirts when the sun grew hot in the afternoon, and dewy new fronds of trees slapped against her face each misty morning. Not a word of explanation was she granted for her discomfort, nor could she fathom a plausible reason for their circuitous path. If they meant to leave Montsalvat for some remote sanctuary, why did they not ride as fast and as far as they were able?
After four days of Dagobert’s apparently futile peering at the ground, despite the fact that his countenance had grown even more grim and forbidding, despite her certainty that her question would not merit an answer, Alienor dared to ask.
“What do you seek?” she asked one afternoon, earning a sharp glance from her companion when she drew up alongside his steed.
“What do you mean?” Dagobert’s innocent expression did not appear with sufficient speed to hide his surprise. He halted the horses with a gesture, fixing his attention on her.
Alienor’s heart skipped but she would not be deterred. “Clearly you seek someone,” she said, emboldened by the rarity of a word from him that did not urge her to silence. “Even the most simple soul could not fail to see that we have been riding in circles these past days. It would seem that you await another here and search for some sign of their passing.”
Dagobert lifted one brow, his gaze searching her face as if he would read her very thoughts. When he did not reply, Alienor continued, taking his silence for permission to do so.
“’Twould seem that if you sought another rider, they might be more apt to use the main road. If so, we would be more likely to miss them on these neglected paths.”
“Indeed.” There was no censure in his tone. He gazed into the lush green woods surrounding them and Alienor knew that he was considering her suggestion. He nodded once, curtly, and flicked a glance in her direction before touching his spurs to his mount. “The main road ’twill be, my lady, come what may.”
He turned his steed and she could only follow his lead along the narrow pathway.
The orange rays of the sinking sun were just touching the tops of the trees when they gained the road, its comparatively wide surface a relief to Alienor. Her mount seemed to feel the same way, for the horse stamped with impatience to run once they were free of the vines and undergrowth.
The road led back to the distant mountains in one direction and toward a town tucked into the shadows of a valley in the other. Dagobert turned his charger toward the town. There were few travelers on the road at this hour and Alienor took the opportunity to ride alongside her husband. She noted his quick sideways glance at her move, but he said naught.
The town ahead grew to considerable size as they approached, proving to be much bigger than her expectations. Alienor dared to imagine that she might soon enjoy that warm bath, and knew she would welcome even a straw pallet after these days of bathing in cold streams and sleeping on the ground.
The walls of the unnamed town rose in the twilight shadows. They were formidable indeed, with high smooth faces and watchtowers aplenty. She wondered how far they had ridden before Dagobert began to bide his time in the woods. Never having left Perpignan before her nuptials, she could not recognize this town.
“Toulouse,” Dagobert supplied unexpectedly from beside her.
Alienor glanced to him in surprise that he should so easily read her thoughts. She thought he almost smiled, but in the half-light it was hard to be sure.
He turned his attention back to the road and she saw him frown before he continued. “We shall seek an old friend of my sire. Raimon is his name, and if he is still the man who rode with my father, a mere glimpse of your smile, my love, will have his entire household at your disposal.”
Alienor blinked at Dagobert’s casual endearment and its import before she realized that it could mean naught at all. Perhaps he teased her. Perhaps he meant to pretend to his friend that their match was an amorous one.
Perhaps this was yet another secret she would not be told.
Raimon was gone from this earth, but his son, a man some twenty years older than Dagobert and also named Raimon, welcomed the two travelers with open arms. The new count was an amiable man, drawing out Alienor’s laughter and earning her gratitude by ordering a hot bath to the chamber she and Dagobert were to share. If a certain wariness lingered in the depths of her husband’s eyes, Alienor was certain that ’twas no more than exhaustion taking its toll.
In the twinkling of an eye, their horses had been tended and stabled, a chamber prepared for them, that bath summoned for Alienor and a blazing fire set within the hearth in their room. By the ti
me Raimon joined them, Alienor had scrubbed the grime from her skin and donned cleaner clothes. Dagobert likewise had shed his mail and bathed. His posture as he sat before the fire was more at ease than Alienor had seen him before. With relief she noted that tinge of suspicion had abandoned his features and he seemed on the verge of lightheartedness.
A trio of servants followed in Raimon’s wake, moving a table and spreading hot fare upon it for their evening meal. The smells that rose from the covered platters made Alienor’s mouth water in anticipation.
“Please excuse our fare,” Raimon apologized, though the food looked most tempting. “’Tis well past the hour of our evening meal and I regret having only remains to offer.”
“’Tis most generous of you to be so hospitable at so late an hour.” Dagobert spared a glance to Alienor as he filled a trencher for the two of than. He glanced inquiringly at their host, but Raimon waved him off, sitting back in his chair with a cup of warmed wine.
“I have already partaken too heartily this day,” he confessed with a grin. He patted his flat stomach, which coaxed a smile from Alienor. Dagobert sat beside her and she shared the smile with him, surprised when he slid his arm around her shoulders beneath Raimon’s watchful gaze.
Alienor noted with pleasure that Dagobert had taken some of every dish but also contrived that a minimum of meat had made it to the trencher. He took one of the few morsels of meat and she understood that he was still cautious.
She took a smaller piece and willed herself to eat it, congratulating Raimon on the skills of his cook as she sampled each dish. Dagobert ate most of the remaining meat on the trencher while she savored the vegetables and she wondered if he had intended for her to eat any at all.
Unicorn Bride: A Medieval Romance Page 16