Page 13 of Betrothal

“You would leave me so soon, my lady?” Geoffrey’s silken voice carried danger in it. “You have declared I am to know you better, Lady Alyse.” His eyes gleamed wickedly in the candlelight. “I think you must make good on that promise.”

Chapter 6

“How so, sir?” Her voice trembled, though her face remained composed.

“Why, with conversation, my lady. How else?”

Alyse released a sigh of relief and Geoffrey chuckled, for he had guessed the bent of her mind. Would that that knowledge could be gained tonight. An image flashed through his mind of Alyse, in his bed, licking…tasting…touching those red lips to his… He shook himself and suppressed the pleasant daydream.

“I presume from your sharp repartee with Thomas that you are both a scholar and a wit?” His mocking tone surprised him—a reaction, he supposed, to the unexpected skill she had shown in her use of language. He scowled. Unbidden, jealousy roiled in him at the memory of Thomas’s kiss on her hand. Such feelings were madness. His friend’s attentions were the courtly fashion—a game Geoffrey knew he played exceedingly well.

“Lady Alyse?” She had taken so long to reply Geoffrey had to ask again. “Do you attend me, my lady?”

The maid seemed to shake herself from a reverie and turned cautious eyes toward him. “Aye, my lord. I beg your pardon. My mind had… I am sorry, my lord.” She peered at him, pitiful and confused. “What did you ask of me?”

Geoffrey snorted. “I think I have my answer, lady, yet I will ask again. Are you both a scholar and a wit?”

She ventured a small smile. “’Tis hard to answer yea, my lord, having just proved my lack of wits to you. Yet I have some pretense to both charges when I am hard pressed, as you heard before with Lord Braeton.”

“Yes, you did acquit yourself admirably with Thomas.” Too well for his taste. “But do you not care to trade banter with me, lady? Our conversations so far have not shown me your great skills in wordplay. Would you deny me this pleasure with you?”

“Nay, my lord, I would deny you no pleasure.” Alyse stopped and clapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes widening in horror. Her face deepened to a brilliant shade of scarlet.

Geoffrey’s bench thumped down on the rush-strewn floor, his blood heating at the import of her words. “Indeed, my lady! Shall we retire at once to my chamber?” He tried to restrain a lecherous grin as he watched her fight to recall those words. She was proving excellent sport in her attempts to placate him.

“My lord, I did not mean…”

“Did you not, my sweet?” He leaned toward her, tempted to try to steal a kiss in the confusion. Not a prudent move, perhaps, but oh so enticing.

“Nay, my lord.” Alyse seemed to have recovered, for she sat straighter and gave herself a little shake. “As you see, my skills at wordplay do not seem to include banter with you. I know not why, but my wits scatter and the most unfortunate sentiments fly from my lips whenever I speak with you.” She refused to look at him, stared instead at the hands clenched tight in her lap. “I am sorry, my lord, if this displeases you.”

Restored to good humor, Geoffrey unclenched her hands and drew one into his. “Pay this no mind, sweet. Perhaps upon further acquaintance your wits will not flee you and we will spar with each other in earnest.”

“Of course, my lord. Whatever you will.”

“Whatever I will, lady?” Geoffrey bit back a laugh as she snatched her hand from his and glared at him.

“If you insist on turning every chance word into a seduction, my lord, we will get nowhere this evening. I do not have all night to simply bandy words with you.”

“And what would you do instead, lady?”

“I would learn something of the man I am to marry in so short a time. You said that was your plan.” Alyse shot him a triumphant look.

“So I did. You would study me then?”

As she cast about for a rejoinder, dinner arrived, bringing her a slight reprieve. Geoffrey would have preferred to have her answer before she had time to think. She blushed so charmingly when flustered. But she took her time—tasting her roast venison and drinking some ale before composing herself to put a question to him.

“How long have you known of our betrothal, my lord? You seemed fully aware of the circumstances yesterday when we stood before the king.”

“My father mentioned it to me in passing several days ago, before I left Longford, though not to grant me any boon. A chance word allowed me the advantage, nothing more. He might as easily have left it to His Majesty to inform me, as your father did. But, yes, at least I knew your name.” Geoffrey smiled, remembering the other useful tidbits he had discovered about his betrothed from Thomas. “Father’s main interest lay in my new position in the princess’s household, secured from the king because of my betrothal.” Geoffrey raised his cup, now in no mood for smiles. “His only other observation hinted that we may ne’er see England more when we set sail.”

Alyse hesitated then ventured another question. “Does it sadden you, my lord, to leave England, perhaps forever?”

There seemed no reason to hide his dismay at the prospect. “It does, Lady Alyse, for I love nothing so well as my home here. The manor house at Longford was my boyhood home and the lands around it are most pleasant and familiar to me. They will pass to my elder brother, Roland, in any case, so I would have left them eventually.

“But now I have house and lands of my own in Derbyshire, a grant from the Earl of Derby for service to him and King Edward at Crecy. I worked there these last months to improve both, with an eye to residing at the manor when not at court or on campaign.”

He could see the small stone manor house in his mind’s eye. The sheep dotting the pastures around the quiet village of Broome. Bitterness welled that his work of the past months had been for naught. “That plan, it seems, is not to be. So aye, Lady Alyse, to exchange the lush English countryside for the hot, dry climes of Spain excites my heart not at all.”