A Lady's Charade (Medieval Romance Novel) (17 page)

“Stop,” she managed between ragged breaths.

He sat back on his heels. She pulled her skirts down over her knees, tucking the hem around her ankles, refusing to look at his face.

“What is it?” he asked, his voice heavy, guttural. Was it possible he’d experienced such pleasure from having his way with her?

“I cannot do this.”

“Why? I want you… You want me…” He stood, raking his hands through his hair. His rigid length pressed and wrestled with the front of his braies. She licked her lips, wanting to continue, wishing there were no repercussions. She hadn’t even had a chance to feel his heavy length in her hand.

“Do you think I am some common harlot you can throw over your horse and ravage at your leisure?” she hissed angrily, appalled more at her own behavior than his.

He stared at her for a moment, seeming to mull her words over in his mind. He stepped backward away from her suddenly, his face flashing surprise and anger.

“You are quite right,
mademoiselle
. I do apologize,” he growled. He yanked her headdress from the ground, thrust it at her, and then picked her up and threw her onto his horse, quickly mounting behind her.

He kicked the horse into a full gallop back toward the town. Chloe could feel his anger whipping against her back as they rode. She dared not turn around for fear of receiving a tongue lashing or angering him further. When they entered the village he rode straight for the keep, just missing several of the villagers as they darted out of his way.

Alexander didn’t even stop his horse, but instead swung her over and dropped her onto the ground in front of the steps. It wasn’t a gentle dropping, and Chloe bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out as her buttocks hit the ground hard, jarring her entire body. She watched in angry amazement as the very man with whom she’d been intimate just moments before took off, riding toward the stables without turning back.

Chloe slowly stood as stoically as she could, wiped the dirt from her gown, and watched the back of Alexander’s horse through the clouds of dust he left in the air. She was suddenly overcome with melancholy.

Harold came flying out of the keep with the commotion, a look of outrage on his face until he saw Chloe’s anguish and her disheveled appearance. His face quickly softened as he grasped her arm and ordered her to her chamber.

Everyone and everything I’ve ever cared for will disappear.
She walked stiffly up the steps to the keep.

****

Alexander was beyond angry at himself for his unchivalrous conduct. He, a man who prided himself on control, values and family responsibility, had let this silly little peasant get a hold on him. She had bewitched him. How could he be so angry at her one moment and then be filled with passion the next, nearly bedding her under the trees?

She had a right to be offended by him. Yet, he felt as if she had consumed him and made him react to her that way. It must be a trick of some sort. He had heard about some women and their lovemaking ways. Pulling a man in, teasing him until he nearly burst with his need to have her. Like dangling a carrot before a rabbit and not letting him have a bite. Well, he’d tasted his little rabbit, and he wanted the whole damn thing.

Dear God in Heaven, what the hell was he doing? Was she a peasant or not?

She certainly fit the picture of his bride to be, a woman of privilege. There was no way that she would have traveled from Scotland and decided to live out her life as a common woman. Perhaps it was a trick to see what type of a man he was before she would take him as her husband. No doubt since she had bewitched him, she would go so low as to play a commoner. He shook his head. After his dealings with her family he couldn’t imagine her doing such a thing. They were much too filled with pride to stoop so low. And besides she wouldn’t dare! No one would. Would they? The nerve of her! Immersing herself in his life the way she had.

At that thought he became all the more enraged. That little harlot! She had come here to seduce him, trick him into something! He pushed back in his mind that it was he who had dragged her into the woods against her will, thrust his hands into her luscious hair, tasted the sweetness of her cunny, delved his fingers into her tight, hot sheath, and nearly plundered her right there. His body still pulsed and raged for release. She had put a spell on him. He could think of no better reason for his behavior.

He shook himself with disgust. He needed air. He needed fresh air, and cool water. He jumped back onto his horse and rode out of the village again, to the river that flanked the west side. He dismounted, disrobed. His cock still rock hard, he gripped the flesh in his hand, and stroked. Up, down, over the tip. He moaned aloud, imaging it was her little silky hand that gripped him. Her hands running up and down the length. He stroked faster, harder. Imagined her velvet lips and tongue lashing at his cock, her little hands gripping his sac as she took him deep in her throat. He pumped vigorously. His hand gripping the hilt and running up over the tip. Harder, faster. Up, down. Then with a shout, his climax consumed him. He roared into the open air, his seed spilling into his palm, his body shaking.

He stood still for a moment, overpowered by his release, by his thoughts of Chloe.

Relishing the feel the calm, frigid water would bring him, he dove into its crisp haven. He swam stroke after stroke, swimming long and hard until he was exhausted. The droplets of water that began to freeze on his nose and cheeks quickly melted. The physical exertion helped him to think.

And he did have a lot of thinking to do, particularly about what he was going to do with the little minx. He had to find out who she was, and what she was doing here, before he could decide her fate. But he couldn’t stop the annoying desire to have her, all of her. Stroking himself into oblivion did little to alleviate his need for her. He’d never met his match before now and he couldn’t imagine living the rest of his life without her.

To hell with the possibility that she may have come there to do away with him, seek her revenge. He wanted her with a ferocity that rocked him to his core. His cock grew hard anew with the need to have her—despite the frigid waters. This had to stop. He had to get control of himself. He was a powerful lord and baron. Someday he’d be the Earl of Northumberland. He had to have more control over himself if he were to have so many people depending on him. She was a traitor to England and his king. There was no way with all that had happened he could marry her. To do that would be to go against his own country.

The blast of cold air on his naked frame as he climbed from the water shocked him back into reality. Suddenly he knew exactly what he had to do. Throwing his clothes on haphazardly, he rode at breakneck speed back to the keep, ignoring the shocked faces of the villagers and angry looks as he nearly ran them down for the third time that day. He yelled for Edward his best friend and captain of the guard and Harold his steward, the two people he trusted with his life. He instructed them meet him in his solar. There he told them of what he thought, and how he meant to solve this riddle. His suspicions of Chloe and how much she resembled his bride, the woman he had seen in the window.

Chapter Eleven

Maude fumed, anger rising and coiling around her insides from somewhere deep within her. Her face burned. Her breaths heaved in and out. She wanted to scream. She wanted to hit someone. She wanted to ruin Chloe!

How dare that little harlot accept her hospitality and then destroy her son? His lordship couldn’t have any idea about what a conniving bitch the Scots chit was.

She stalked the two rooms of her house, her feet making impressions on the dirt as she pounded back and forth. She pressed her lips together in a thin line, and furrowed her brows as she stared hatefully at the place Chloe had sat not too long ago.

After all she and James had been through, this could not be happening. Her son was the only family she had left, and that little harlot had taken him from her.

She’s not going to get away with this. I won’t let her. I know how to get her back. I know just how to ruin that little tease. I’ll get my revenge!

She looked down at the satchel she held in a death grip. Her mouth slowly curved into a smile that was anything but pleasant.

A shiver of excitement ran through her.

Revenge would be sweet
.

Vicious and cruel laughter escaped her. She narrowed her eyes and stalked from the house.

****

Several days went by, and Chloe had yet to see or hear from Alexander. When she returned to her room on the day she now thought of as
that day
she’d been fearful he would order the guards to haul her from her room and throw her in the tower.

He had not, but she walked on a double-edged sword waiting for it to happen. Then she’d seen him sneak off with his second in command. They’d ducked into an alcove, and beyond curious as to whether the conversation pertained to her imprisonment, Chloe slid behind a curtain to listen. She’d listened intently, barely able to breathe. But their conversation had been of an entirely different nature—one she was immeasurably glad she happened to overhear.

“That part was not clear. Our men engaged with them, most of Fergusson’s men scattered, those that stuck around were killed or taken in for questioning.”

Chloe bit down hard on her lip to keep her silence. Was it possible her family sought vengeance for her? Somehow she doubted it.

“Make sure fortifications are in place. Have the men be on alert for anything out of the ordinary. I don’t think Fergusson will be bold enough to come into the heart of England, but he is most definitely ballsy enough to attempt an attack on South Hearth.”

Chloe’d heard enough. She would have to get word to her family. She’d gone back to her room and penned a letter of warning, which now sat tucked against her breast, for the moment when she thought she might be able to get it safely to them.

She’d spent a day panicking about her position within the household. Then she’d become angry. Immediately she’d gone down to the great hall to find the neat pile of rolled up straw mats and dingy blankets. She’d taken a nice grisly blanket, with visible bugs and lice on it and stuffed it into his luscious bed.

He’d itched for at least two days, but never said a word to her.

Chloe paced the length of her room, her hands clutching and un-clutching the skirt of her gown. Her mind was in turmoil. She felt guilty for her little trick. But why? Hadn’t he used her and tried to force himself on her?

Mais oui, but I thoroughly enjoyed it.

What had happened with Alexander? How had she let herself go like that? She acted like a common harlot, lifting up her skirts at the first sign of temptation. Her body instantly responded with the memories of his touch, his warm lips on her. Chloe shook with disgust at herself. And that man was so willing to ravage her on the spot! After she had pushed him away he had been angry with her, had thrown her off the horse at the foot of the keep. Did he really expect her to just let him bed her? Her anger boiled at his actions—yet she still became flushed with the memories of how his body felt on hers—the way his tongue lashed against the silky folds of her nether region, probing the sweet hot spot that sent waves of pleasure coursing through her. She had not known there could be such passion between a man and a woman.

Since she hadn’t seen him, or even heard his voice in a couple of days, Chloe assumed he’d been called away for some matter. Most likely to investigate the news of her family’s whereabouts himself, but she hoped that wasn’t the case. She knew he had other holdings. Perhaps he visited them every so often. Apparently he hadn’t left word with Harold to get rid of her.

Would he seek out her punishment when he got back?

Walking to the fire, she stuck the poker into the flames, watching as tiny embers sparked and sizzled. Too many questions and not enough answers.

She needed fresh air. Her room was stifling. Or was she being suffocated by all the lies? Leaving the fire she went to the window and pulled back the bear skin covering. Crisp cool air flowed in. Gazing out over the landscape, her eyes were drawn toward the bailey. True to his word, Alexander had James placed in the stocks, where the villagers taunted and tormented him. She’d watched with mixed feelings. Helpless to do anything, she’d eventually hidden away, avoiding the courtyard. The stocks were empty now. James had then been placed in the dungeon, and his mother dismissed from her position and ordered to vacate the village by the end of the week.

Not feeling like she was getting enough air from her window, and not wanting anyone to intercept her, Chloe wrapped her cloak around her shoulders, left her chamber, and descended a back set of stairs. She felt like the keep walls were closing in around her.

Stepping outside she walked briskly toward the bailey gates. Maude wasn’t the one who attacked Chloe. Why was the woman being punished so harshly? She shouldn’t be made to abandon all she knew. Chloe felt this punishment personally. It hit too close to home for her, and made her realize just how close she was to losing her own livelihood.