A Lady's Charade (Medieval Romance Novel) (21 page)

“Are you sure you haven’t found anything of interest? If not perhaps you could stop sifting through my underclothes?” she drawled. It was fun to tease this man.

He looked down at his hands and seemed to notice for the first time that he was clutching a thin-as-air chemise. He immediately shoved it back into the wardrobe and backed away.

He turned to glare at her. His expression changing, his eyes mirroring her own feelings at the sight of him holding a piece of cloth that had once been so close to her skin.

Desire. White hot desire
.

Chloe shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. A sizzle of yearning crept down her spine to settle in her core. As he sauntered toward her, his gaze raked her body from head to toe until they finally rested on her eyes. Their gazes locked and she felt his burning regard to her very soul. She held her breath, and the spark that had flared in the very center of her grew to an inferno with each step he took.

When he was only inches away he stopped. The heat emanating from his sinewy body flowed over her. The sensation of it was intense and she feared her knees would buckle. Her stomach again put on a tumultuous act, however this time it didn’t make her nauseous. Chloe suppressed the urge to whimper as her body warmed and hummed. She wanted only for him to wrap her in his arms and ravish her like he had
that day
in the woods. But he didn’t, he just gazed at her, his eyes darkening, his lids growing heavy.

His gaze searched hers, and her eyes grew wide under such strict scrutiny. What was going through his mind? His lips clenched tight and his brows furrowed. Even though he frowned, she knew he was not angry at her. She could see it in his eyes. She could feel it.

His mouth lowered to hers, but didn’t quite reach her lips. His breath fanned over her face. Gooseflesh rose and a wicked sizzle flashed through her. She closed her eyes in anticipation, her lips opened slightly, waiting for his kiss. She felt his presence, hot, sensual, and her mind started to muddle. He moved closer, the length of him pressed against her form. Thighs to thighs. Glorious rigid erection to the warm crux of her thighs. Breasts pressed to hard muscle. All thoughts of the satchel immediately fled her mind. His tongue flicked out to tease her top lip. His teeth nibbled along her chin, moving to the side of her neck, her collarbone. His hands danced along her arms, her back, her hips. Nibble, lick, nip, kiss. Again and again. Her legs shook with pent up desire. Her knees wobbled. Her hands clenched in fists at her sides. Her breaths hitched. Heart raced.

No, she hadn’t made this up. He had confirmed it by his stare. By the away he had rakishly plundered her with his eyes, his lips and tongue.

Why then had he left? Was he ashamed that he had such feelings for her? Was he teaching her a lesson?

That had to be the answer. Either he suspected who she was, or if not, then he could only look on her as a common peasant.

Her excitement over finding that he had desired her abated at the thought that he was disgusted and ashamed at his feelings for her. She swallowed bitterly. If only things were different…

She patted her chest, and sighed in relief. At least she had her things. He hadn’t had time to look under her bed and seen the satchel.

She listened closely for any noises in the hall outside her room, and when she was sure there was no one meandering about, she grabbed the satchel and stealthily left the room. She needed to get rid of the bag. The gown, slippers and headdress she would hide somewhere within the keep.

She ducked into the hallway. With the sun beginning to set outside, the light in the hall dimmed a great deal, and the staff had yet to light any candles. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the dimness and she walked silently down the hall in the opposite direction of the stairs. She did not want to run into Alexander should he change his mind and came back for further investigation.

At the end of the hall were a set of stairs leading down to the back of the building used mainly for the staff, but also as an escape route in case enemy forces were coming up the main staircase. And indeed, her enemy was close to the main stairs. Making sure to check behind her frequently, she snuck down the back stairs and crept out of the keep as silently as she could.

Sweat gathered in little beads on her top lip. She took a breath and slowly let it out, wiping her upper lip as she did so.

Looking about she could see there were not many people walking on the grounds and those that were, busily worked at their duties. She said a silent prayer that the few milling about wouldn’t notice her carrying a leather satchel. She tucked it under her arm, schooled her face into an expression of nonchalance and took off at a steady but unalarming pace toward the well.

As soon as she got there, she put the satchel on the rock ledge of the well, and lifted up the bucket. As she pulled the bucket onto the side of the well, she looked at the people busy working to make sure no one was watching. Not one glanced her way. She put the bucket back into the well, nudging the satchel over the side as she dropped the bucket. The second splash of the satchel made a light sound that was noticed by no one save herself.

It is done. The satchel would sink to the bottom of the well. The portrait was safe within her gown.
Her hand came up to rest over her heart. Perhaps the person who’d taken the jewels was only looking to make a few coins and not betray her. She had to be on hers.

Chloe returned slowly to the keep, she needed to get some of her duties done. She had wiled enough of the day away in the village tending to the sick, and visiting with some of the village folk.

She was becoming dangerously attached to Lord Hardwyck. Whatever happened now, she needed to put some distance between them.

****

Alexander stormed out of the castle for another swim in the frigid stream. He couldn’t believe his reaction to the woman!

As soon as she pointed out that he was holding her chemise, he had lost control of himself and walked toward her, desire in his every move. He had every intention of tossing her onto the soft mattress and driving his cock home again and again. Just as he had been about to grab her and ravage her luscious mouth, something had flickered in her eyes. Fear? Shame? He didn’t know, but it had been enough for him. He had to leave her, immediately.

He dove into the stream without removing a stitch of clothing. He needed the shock that the freezing temperatures of the water could afford him. He swam a lap across the stream and back again, all the while berating himself for his thoughts and reactions. He hadn’t even been able to look further for the satchel.

He knew it was there. Harold had made it clear that it was.

When she had opened the door, he could see the distress written all over her face. She hid something that disturbed her immensely. It also looked like she’d been crying.

Something was in that satchel. And he needed to know what it was. It could be the answer to this mystery. The answer to who she was, and what she was doing at Hardwyck.

His laps became more furious and his body was oblivious to the icy waters. When his breath was jagged and he felt the heat leave him completely, he climbed out.

He walked, soaking wet, back to the keep and by the time he reached the gate he was shivering. Icicles formed in his hair, his eyebrows, his clothes were frozen stiff.

What a stupid man I am, diving into the frigid waters, completely dressed! What is she doing to me? She is making me lose my mind! My senses!

He walked into the keep and was greeted by Harold, who upon seeing his condition began shouting orders to the staff to bring him a hot bath in his room, gather blankets, furs and wood for the fire. Harold ushered him up the stairs to his private chamber and assisted him in getting out of the icy clothes.

The staff were quick with the bath and Alexander sank into the steamy tub. A moan escaped his lips at the feel of the warm water on his skin, seeping into his very soul.

His moan brought back vivid memories of Chloe while she had taken her bath. The sounds of her splashes, the sounds of her content moans. This time when Alexander shivered it wasn’t from the frigid dip he’d taken.

The cold swim had done nothing, now his body was again at the ready. He couldn’t win. He wouldn’t be able to subdue himself until he had her. In his bed, in her bed, on the ground, anywhere, everywhere. He wanted her and he wanted her with a hunger nothing but the feel of her silky skin and tight, hot, wet sheath would satisfy.

****

Chloe took care in her chamber fixing herself for the evening meal. She made sure her headdress was securely in place, her hair cascading in waves down her back. Her simple gown, clean from any stains, sat smoothly against her body. She pinched her cheeks and sucked on her lips to bring out the color.

Why was she primping for the dragon? The man who was her confirmed enemy. She didn’t want to think about that. She just wanted to look nice.

Descending the stairs, she entered the great hall, and went about her duties of making sure the meal happened on time and in the proper manner.

As the men started to pile in and take their seats, her stomach tightened in anticipation. Her face colored naturally with a flush she could feel so hot, she thought she might burst into flames. Nervously she flicked her gaze about to see if anyone had noticed her reaction. She felt like her thoughts were on display for everyone. That they could hear the private commentary going on in her mind.

Where was Alexander? Reaching up she patted her bodice without thinking, feeling secure when her fingers traced the outline of the miniature.

The last of his knights settled at the table and Lord Hardwyck was nowhere in sight. She didn’t see Harold either.

When the first of the kitchen staff began to bring in the meal she stopped her.

“We must wait for Lord Hardwyck. He is back and I’m sure he wants to eat with his men,” she said to the woman who looked at her incredulously.

“Harold gave orders that his lordship would not be dining here tonight and to begin,” the woman said and brushed by Chloe giving her an annoyed look.

Chloe stepped back and let the meal procession proceed. Why hadn’t Harold told her? Since Harold had completely given up his duties for meal times—and he was not present, Chloe could not leave her post to go find out. She had to remain until the last knight left, and all had been cleaned up. Luckily since it was evening and not the main meal she wouldn’t have to wait too long.

The trenchers filled with pheasant, quail, vegetables and fruits were all placed on the long tables, and the men dug in. Not having much of an appetite after the activities of the day, and worried over why Alexander was not dining with the rest of the men, Chloe stayed in the background and watched as the meal progressed.

Lady Anne turned toward her as if to speak, but Chloe nodded politely and looked away, trying as hard as possible not to make eye contact with the woman again. She was in no mood for conversation, and the rolls that her stomach was doing would not be good for food. She certainly didn’t want to lose her meal onto Lady Anne or one of the knights.

At long last, the meal ended. The staff began clearing the table, and the knights filed out. Lady Anne approached Chloe.

“Why did you not join us?” she asked bluntly.

“My apologies, my lady. I am not feeling at all well this evening,” Chloe said, glancing away. She hoped Lady Anne would take the hint and leave her be, but she pressed on.

“What ever is the matter?” she asked, concern in her voice.

“I believe that I am just overtired.” Chloe sighed, praying the woman would believe her. It was partially the truth. She returned her gaze to the lady’s face and tried to ignore the question in her eyes.

“I see. Lord Hardwyck is also not feeling well. I hear he came into the keep not two hours ago, sopping wet and shivering. I fear he took a spill into the river,” Lady Anne said, her brow furrowing as she thought on the subject. “He has been in his chamber ever since.”

Chloe’s heart quickened.
He fell into the water? He is in bed? The man who seems so strong, so able, is in bed? Sick? Impossible.

“Well, here is my solar, I will let you walk the rest of the way yourself.” Lady Anne ducked into her private room, gave Chloe a wink, and then shut the door before Chloe had a chance to respond.

Now what was that all about?

She pondered over Lady Anne’s peculiar behavior as she walked the rest of the way down the hall to Alexander’s chamber.
Dear Lord, I’ve just thought of him as Alexander… Come to think of it, I’ve been thinking of him as Alexander for some time now…

Harold stood outside of the door.

“Good evening, Harold. I hear that Lord Hardwyck is ill.” Chloe was surprised at how calm her voice was. Inside she was near to bursting. She suppressed the urge to shove the man out of her way and crash through the door.