Page 14 of Betrothal

“Then I am truly sorry, my lord.”

He scarce heard her small voice, so intent was he on remembering the meadows in bloom when he had ridden away five days ago.

“For your sake, I would wish it otherwise.”

Geoffrey recalled then that she, too, would be an exile. “You have no qualms at leaving your home for unknown Spain?”

Her face lit up and Geoffrey sucked in a sharp breath at the beauty before him. The same face, yet not the same, for her look resembled the one men sometimes got when the exhilaration of battle came upon them.

“I think ’tis different with women, my lord, for we are born to leave our homes. I left Beaulieu when I was but a child, and although I have seen my parents from time to time, I have seldom resided at my birthplace for more than a fortnight since.

“As I told you at breakfast,” she smiled, and seemed to recollect their encounter with fondness, “I attended Lady Elizabeth from the age of seven years until I came here to serve the princess. To continue on to Spain seems not strange at all but exciting beyond belief. Perhaps ’twill be strange to stay there for many years, but that too may change. Only God can say.” She placed a hand on his arm, compassion in her voice. “But I am deeply sorry you must leave your home, my lord, since it is so dear to you.”

“’Tis not your fault, little maid.” Geoffrey covered her hand with his and the warmth of her skin seemed to burn through him. “A soldier knows he must go where he is called, and though I am not called to fight, still I am in the service of the king and will go where he bids me. Though our fathers decreed we should marry, ’twas the insistence of the king that I go with you to Spain. Princess Joanna is loath to part with you.” He meant it as a compliment—that she was highly placed in the princess’s affections—but the dark, wide eyes in the pale, drawn face foretold some ill omen. He had to lean in to hear her low whisper.

“Then it is my fault you will be sent from your home.”

* * * *

Alyse stared at him, aghast at the disaster looming at the beginning of their marriage. How much would he resent her for wresting him from his home and country? Tears welled in her eyes. Had she not served the princess so well, perhaps she would not have been chosen to accompany her to Spain. A great honor, yes, but at what cost? And the fear of him she had begun to dismiss crept back. Would he punish her for his banishment?

The first tears brimmed over and trickled down her cheeks. Alyse raised a hand to shield this weakness from him. Tried to turn away. But, before she could even shift in her seat, he clamped a big hand on her shoulder. She stiffened, resisted, though she might as well have tried to fight upstream against a torrent. Relentless, he drew her around the end of the table until she pressed against his hard chest and his free hand guided her head to rest against his shoulder.

“Shh. Do not cry, sweet. ’Tis not your fault. Our fathers betrothed us. Neither of us had a choice in the matter.” His gentle tone belied his previous gruffness.

Her heart calmed a trifle.

He turned her head and she looked into clear, kind eyes. “For my part, Alyse, if I must travel hence to Spain, I can think of none other I would have accompany me as my wife.” He brushed the tears away with his thumb.

His compassion stunned her, as sweet as it was unexpected. Was this the same great oaf as yesterday? She blinked back tears and struggled to sit up, but Geoffrey held her close with unyielding arms. Somehow, his nearness did not frighten her as much now.

“You are more than kind, my lord. You do me honor to show such consideration to the cause of your distress.”

Geoffrey’s lips grazed the top of her head, and he slid his arm from her shoulder to tighten around her waist. Shifting to accommodate their changed position, she reached around him in turn and gently grasped his waist. At her movement, his whole body tensed as though trying to turn to stone.

Alarmed, she pulled back and darted her gaze to his impassive face. “My lord? You are not pleased?”

More than a little wary, she waited while Geoffrey took a deep breath and his tension ebbed somewhat. His voice, nonetheless, sounded strained and husky to her ear. “Nay, Lady Alyse. You please me very well.” He disengaged her arm from his waist and leaned back and away from her. “However, as our marriage is not for almost a fortnight yet, the pleasure you have inspired in me is one we will have to await a little longer.” He traced the line of her jaw with the rough pad of his finger. “I must guard the virtue of my little maid, even from myself.”

“Another feat for Hercules, my lord?” She could not help a small, satisfied smile. “I assure you, you will have no cause to doubt your intended wife.”

Geoffrey groaned and shook his head. “I can see, my lady, your wits have indeed returned. And I am sure you will use them to charm your husband into granting your every wish. Yet,” he leaned closer and gathered both her hands, “what of your husband’s wishes?” He kneaded them, engulfing her tiny white hands in his darker ones, and set her stomach to trembling.

“But I have no husband yet, my lord.” Alyse’s voice threatened to die away completely as she struggled to keep her mind focused. The task became nigh impossible as Geoffrey raised her hands to his lips and caressed them with a burning mouth.

“I will be your husband shortly, Alyse. And you must know what my wishes are, demoiselle.” Indeed, he gave her no doubt as he trailed kisses across her palms and sent shivers dancing along her arms.

It took all her concentration to stutter a reply. “I…I will gladly do as my husband bids, when he is husband indeed.” Somehow, she managed to free one of her hands, which she placed boldly on his arm. “’Til then, my lord, I believe I must help you pass the time in some other merry manner.”

Geoffrey pushed his bench back and crossed his arms again. His mouth twitched, as if suppressing a smile. “How on earth do you intend make me ‘merry,’ when the one pastime I desire to engage in is forbidden?”

Alyse giggled, more lighthearted now than in the past two days. “I beg you to recall, my lord, that when you awoke but yesterday morn you had not even seen my face. I am sure there are other pleasant ways to while away the hours.”

One corner of Geoffrey’s mouth turned up and his eyes narrowed. “Perhaps I can amuse myself by instructing you on how to say my name, little maid.”

“My lord?”

“My name is Geoffrey, not ‘my lord.’ Geoff-rey.” He elongated the syllables, as if teaching a child to speak. “You have known it for some time but have yet to use it.”