A Flame Run Wild (13 page)

Liliane touched her love's face with a lingering, wondering caress. "Can our delight be a sin when it is so fair and sweet?" she whispered sadly. "All the happiness I shall ever want in the world is within this room. I shall never come here again, yet wherever I go, your flute will sound in the wind, and I'll hear your elusive voice in the sea's murmur. For my sake, live by some distant shore whose waves may someday play upon this, with fingers of soft foam that I may touch. Live not alone, but take a wife and have children, that I also may hear their bubbling laughter in the sea." Her eyes glistened with tears she longed to shed. "Ah, the years, the heavy years press down upon me even now. Hold me, my love, and keep time away for a little. Like some puny Atlas, I am too soon grown weary. ..." A wistful smile curved her mouth. "Tell me of the days before I knew you so that I may have memories without burden. Tell me of your adventures, the desert on a dreamless night when the stars were gleaming crystal globes, cool fountains and singing houris..."

Cuddling her close, Alexandre spun her stories of beauty and danger, but it was not long before she slept. By moonlight, he saw the smudges of fatigue beneath her eyes. Because of his false messages and her concern for him, she had not slept for many nights. Feelings of guilt and tenderness overcame him. With a feather's touch, he stroked her hair. Even if I be damned and die for it, he thought fiercely, I love her! She has freely given me the greatest happiness I have ever known. Whatever brief delusion this may be, I shall not wreck it with more suspicion. You will not be sorry to be the love of Alexandre de Brueil, my sweeting, nor will you become weary longing for another who was kinder and more boon companion than he. I shall be all to thee—with a boy's innocent ardor and a man's knowing gentleness. Sleep, my pretty Atlas; you have found one to take the world from your slight shoulders.

Alexandre realized later that his own restless nights must have caught up with him, when he was startled awake by Liliane's muffled cry. She struggled in his arms, flailing out in the throes of a nightmare. "No! Do not cage me! I can bear anything but that!" she sobbed. "Lonely, lonely . . . oh, Jean, where are you?"

Alexandre was profoundly shocked. She had appeared so cool, so unaffected during her confinement at Castle de Brueil, that he had not realized what torment his restrictions had caused her. He pulled her close and kissed her softly. "I am here, my darling. Do not be afraid. You are not alone."

Liliane's eyelids flickered, then her amber eyes opened dazedly. She gazed blankly up at him for a moment, not recognizing him, then drew him down to her. "Love me," she whispered. "Take my soul lest it wither with the summer's flight. Love me. Carry me into that heaven for lovers that is earthly paradise." Her kiss was intoxicating, so sweetly nectared a flower beneath his lips that he drank deeply, savoring with the leisure of a browsing bee. His slow caresses ignited a fiery excitement within her as he bared her body to taste the silken undercurves of her breasts, the smoothness of her stomach and the sensitive warmth of her inner thighs. The buds of her breasts were fragile pink blooms against his lips. As Alexandre made love to Liliane, their sighs and whispers became one with the breeze over the pond, their kisses lingering like moonlight drifting through the forest darkness.

They lay on the large white bed, their slim bodies intricately entwined. Alexandre explored his lover, finding the tiny, hidden rose of her sex, tasting, persuading, delicately arousing her until she quivered, crying out to him, for him. With tantalizing slowness his shaft slipped between her petals, lightly sliding across her velvet softness. Slowly, moment by moment, he prolonged the aching pleasure of pleasing her. Then her dewy moistness enclosed Mm, her magic swirling about him, her body a steaming garden with lambent, glowing flowers that lured him with its scarce-touched mysteries.

Liliane wrapped her golden hair about Alexandre, stroking him, shyly touching between his thighs with the light, bewitching brush of a firefly. Her lips were at his throat, his chest, her body translucent as the moon on water, flowing into him, a silver shimmer of desire. He became lost in her, no longer resisting the swelling rhythm that carried them both into a darkness deeper than the forest night. They discovered a new night, intoxicating in its secrecy and splendid sensuality. Their quickening bodies were shining now, wreathed in dampness and desire. At the height of their ecstasy, the firelights amid the myriad flowers exploded and fell to lie aglow upon the musky earth within the lovers' twilight garden, where Liliane slept like Eve, her innocence too freshly and sweetly lost to be yet missed.

When Liliane awoke hours later, she found that her paradise had disappeared, and with it, her forbidden Adam. Just as he had done upon their first night together, Jean had set silently upon his way, leaving her to awaken alone. As she sat up and saw the moonlight waning upon his empty pillow, Liliane involuntarily moaned, heartsick at his desertion. Why? she thought, angry at herself. Why do I so miss Jean's bidding me farewell? He is right to avoid such pointless agony, and yet ... ah, you unforgiving saints, he is gone as if death had stolen him in the night to leave me mourning like Magdalene.

In the damp darkness, a final cold memory chilled her—Jean had not asked her to go with him this time. Had he known she'd refuse, or did he foresee that in the guilt and hardship of their escape they would in time turn on each other? In her despair, the bleakest of all thoughts seized her—was she merely a complication in his life that he was already relieved to leave behind?

Liliane didn't know how long she sat numbly wrapped in their sheets, but too late she realized that the dawn was dangerously near. Coming to her senses, she quickly dressed and checked the shed, relieved to see that Jean had left her the black destrier. With a final glance at the cabin where she had known such happiness, she mounted and galloped off toward the castle.

In the wooded copse outside Castle de Brueil, she slid off the black and slapped his rump, sending him off for Alexandre to find browsing. Then she turned and raced through the copse. Breathing hard, Liliane crouched at the edge of the forest and intently scanned the castle battlements; luckily none of the five guards were paying attention to the copse. The sky was growing lighter by the moment and the first of the village cocks began to crow. In less than a minute, Liliane had covered the ground between the wood and moat, slipping into the water and swimming silently to the wall Is rocky base, where her knotted silk rope still hung down.

After sliding through the hole in the wall, she dashed across the courtyard to the northwest tower. As she swiftly mounted the tower's first few steps, she froze, horrified to hear someone coming down the upper staircase. They were already looking for her! Fortunately, last night she had taken the precaution of barring her bedchamber door on the inside before she had left, but she would need a good excus for not opening the door this morning. Someone must even now be hurrying to tell Alexandre or searching for an ax to break into the room!

Liliane retreated back to the tower door, casting a quick glance over her shoulder to make certain that the guards were still occupied. Seeing that they were all headed for the west wall, she crept into the garden, pulling the door open to reveal the secret passage, then easing it closed behind her. Peeling her way along the stone walls through the impenetrable darkness, she ran soundlessly up the staircase. She pressed the release and let herself into the bedchamber, sighing in relief. Before she had a chance to turn around, she found herself yanked abruptly into the room. Knuckles dug painfully into her armpits, and Liliane looked up to see Alexandre glaring into her flushed, horrified face.

"You crazy, little idiot!" he hissed, his eyes flashing with fury. "Do you want a damned arrow in your back? All one of those guards had to do was turn around!"

Charles stood behind him, wearing an expression of both exasperation and amused fascination. "A chit Of a female, by God, and she's queen of the beggars and spiders!" he cried. "I've half a mind to see how well she does going over the wall without that cord of hers."

Liliane, her nerves taut with fear and desperation, jerked sharply away from Alexandre, flashing her poignard in deadly warning at Charles. "Shall we see how well that half mind works with half a belly?"

With a muffled oath, Charles started for her, but Alexandre quickly blocked him. "I shall see to Liliane. You attend to those guards who were so blind this morning."

Charles nodded reluctantly. "Just watch your belly,
ami
.'' He gingerly sidestepped Liliane and her ready knife. A moment later, they heard his boots echoing on the stone stairs.

Alexandre was not about to take any chances with Liliane. Her pale face was set with a determined harshness that was totally unlike her. She seemed capable of killing him and anyone else who might threaten her life. Aware of how cornered and hopeless she must feel, Alexandre felt a surge of pity for her. "Liliane, you may as well give me the knife. With all your uncommon expertise, you must know that you cannot escape the castle now."

To his dismay, Liliane edged toward the window. "Perhaps not," she replied quietly, "but you will not have the satisfaction of tormenting me."

Alexandre held his breath as she neared the window, then let out a low, frustrated sigh. "Satisfaction? Good God, do you think I have gotten satisfaction out of your misery? That I would enjoy picking you up from the courtyard stones?" He ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation. "Look, I am not going to hurt you; neither is Charles nor anyone else. Just . . . move away from the window. I only want to talk to you."

Liliane remained where she was, watching him with distrust in her wide eyes. "I can hear well enough from here."

Alexandre had known that reaching an understanding with Liliane would not be easy, but he had not imagined negotiating at knife point. He conceded that the blame was entirely his, for he had let their communication disintegrate to this sad state. Finally he said, "I don't blame you for not trusting me when I haven't trusted you. Perhaps we are right not to trust each other, but does that not kill any hope of making our marriage work? I did not realize that soon enough—I have been cold and you have been conniving, and where has it all gotten us? To your threatening to stick a knife in me!"

Alexandre moved away to sit in the opposite window. He pensively stared out at the bright morning sun, then looked back at her wary face. "I do not know what expectations you had of this marriage, but I doubt if they were much more than mine. I did not want a wife; I wanted money. On the other hand, as a free and well-dowered woman, you could have wanted neither marriage nor gold from a nearly penniless minor noble on whom you had never set eyes. Jacques de Signe must have forced you into this marriage. What weapon did he use?"

"One that is now blunted," she answered cryptically.

"Did he send you here as an assassin?"

"I do not know. I rather doubt it."

"Why?"

Liliane smiled grimly. "Like you, he is unsure of my reliability."

"Are you reliable?"

"When I choose to be."

"But you do not like to be forced."

"Neither do I like to be caged."

His face was taut, his features sharply defined in the angled light. "And at the moment, you like me little better than your uncle."

Liliane nodded. "Very little; however, my uncle is more dangerous than you."

"Is he?" Alexandre gave her an odd smile. "Still, perhaps I might achieve more by persuasion than he has by force." He saw the dubious look return to her eyes. "Before I waste my time, I want to know—would you kill me if your uncle commanded it?"

"I am no murderer," Liliane replied curtly.

"But are you a traitor?"

"You have nothing to fear from me; my uncle is another matter. Upon our marriage, I swore you fealty. Any obligation I might have had to my uncle has long since ended; I owe him nothing."

"As you do me, if one wishes to be legally correct. My 'failure' to visit your bed leaves you morally free to leave me to whatever fate I deserve, indeed to leave me entirely." He slid from the stone sill and came steadily toward her, as if oblivious of her weapon. "Do you want an annulment, Liliane?"

Liliane backed away, lifting the poignard. "To live in poverty while you spend my dowry?"

He stopped suddenly. "I am no thief. Your property would be returned to you, and in time, total repayment of what has been spent."

She clenched her jaw. "I do not believe you."

"I daresay you do not." He smiled crookedly. "Still, your cage door is now open. Will you fly or not?"

Liliane stared at him. She trusted him not a whit. . . and yet, his fair, thoughtful behavior was so different from his usual severity. . . . She craved to flee Castle de Brueil and find Jean, yet while she might owe Alexandre nothing, she was still honor bound to prove that her uncle had murdered Diego. And it was only at Alexandre's side that she might repay the debt.

As she hesitated, Alexandre added softly, "If you stay, I will keep no part of my soul, mind and body from you. You will become my wife in every way."

Liliane did not need to ask what he meant by "every way." He would bed her and expect her to bear his children. The thought now left her cold and numb. Her mind no longer seemed to work. "Why do you make this offer now?" she at last managed to whisper. "You have caught me in flagrant, repeated disobedience—even suspect me of treason! I might have been confiding all your secrets to my uncle last night."