Conquering William (23 page)

The smile Alice gave him warmed his chest.

“Tell me about Anglesea.” She threaded her fingers through his. “Tell me about your family.”

So much better than waging war, and William settled his back against the wall beside her. Snuggled at his side, she listened, her face alight with interest, as he talked of how he and Roger could never do anything without it becoming a competition. He spoke to her of Bea and how she had met her husband, Garrett. Alice laughed at his Bea stories. His youngest sister had a way of getting into trouble with her big heart and unfettered spirit. Alice went quiet and contemplative when he told her of Faye, and the torment she had suffered at her first husband’s hands. A stray tear snaked down her chin as William went on to tell the story of how Faye and Gregory found their way together.

Sharing with Alice had a rightness about it. “I am concerned for my mother,” he said. “You would not know it to look at her, but she was not well after bearing Mathew, and her strength is not as it should be.”

Alice slid her arm about his middle and cuddled closer. “I will keep her in my prayers.”

The hearth flames danced orange, yellow and blue, sending shadows playing about the chamber. Alice smelled fresh and sweet, like a spring breeze. Her breasts pressed full and soft against his side.

“William?”

“Aye.”

Alice sat up and peered at him. “If you are not wroth with me…and I am not tired…”

Lazy heat in his blood quickened. He cupped her sweet face and drew her toward him. “Is there something I can do for you, my lady?”

“Aye, William,” she whispered against his mouth. “You could stop talking.”

She took his breath away with the fierceness of her kiss. Hot, hungry lips devoured his as if she could not get close enough.

William let her take the lead. Like heady wine, her uninhibited passion swept him along with it. She had him hard and aching within mere moments.

He cupped her breasts, loving the way it made her moan when he toyed with her nipples. So passionate, his Alice, and so responsive. She liked his hands firm on her. Writhed when he applied a small pinch to her nipples.

Sweeping aside the linens, she straddled him. Her core pressed warm and wet against him.

Right here, in the spot where her neck joined her shoulder, she welcomed his mouth. He drew deep breaths of her into him.

Beneath the covers she moved against his shaft, rocking her heat on his hardness.

“William?”

“Aye?” Words grew harder to manage. It had been too long since he had lost himself in Alice, and her writhing atop him nigh killed him. He wanted to sink into her and feel her fasten about him like a wet, hot fist.

“When you put your mouth on me, I like it,” she murmured.

Dear God, if she talked gutter to him he would come off just like this. “Aye?” He raised her hips an inch away from him. “As do I?”

He needed the taste of her. William shifted her to his side and attempted to press her down.

“Nay.” Alice took hold of his hands. “I wanted to know if you liked it.”

“More than anything. The taste of you drives me wild.”

“Nay.” Fever bright color stained her cheeks. “What I mean is, do you like it done to you?”

His ballocks fisted tight and pumped more blood into his shaft. “Eh?”

“Is it possible…for me…to do the same to you?”

The fierce demand for her to take him in her mouth rose inside him, but he tamped it down. He did not want to offend her. “It is possible.”

“Will you tell me how?”

Torment, sweet hellish torment. William struggled through the haze of lust as he instructed her. He did not know which made him ache more, the telling her how, or the caress of her tongue on his shaft. When she took him into her mouth, his back bowed off the bed. God in Heaven!

“Alice.” He panted like a dog after a bitch on heat. “God, that feels so good.”

She sucked and he dug his hands into the bedding to stop his completion. She needed to stop before he lost his control, but stopping her would kill him for sure.

She swirled her tongue over his sensitive tip as she hollowed her cheeks and sucked him harder.

“Alice!” William knifed up and grabbed her shoulders.

“Did I do it wrong?” Her face glowed, pure naughty temptress. She knew what she did to him, and she loved it.

William flipped her onto her back and came down atop her. “You are entirely too good at that.”

Wrapping her thighs around his hips, she giggled and wriggled until her heat brushed his sensitized tip. “Shall I swear never to do it again?”

“Enough, wench.” He tore her night rail from her.

Alice laughed, a full-throated, deep chuckle as she reveled in her female power over him.

He had to have her, own her, possess her. William took her in one deep thrust.

She arched and cried out, her legs wrapping around his hips and drawing him deeper.

Needing to see her, William raised himself on his arms. God, what a stirring sight. Her hair a copper tangle on the white linens. Face flushed, eyes bright, she moaned his name.

Around his shaft, she tightened in a heated, slick grip that nearly pushed him over the edge.

William drove into her, relishing the sounds she made, the digging of her nails into his forearms.

Harder he thrust, and she met him with a tilt of her head and a wild cry of encouragement.

He could not get deep enough inside her. Fever coursed through him, to join himself to her and stay there. By sheer will he held off, craving completion and wanting to make this last. Sweat coated both of them as they moved and ground against each other.

Her climax came on in a tightening grip about his shaft. It spread across her in a fascinating flush that beaded her nipples and threw her head back.

William went over the edge with her. Tumbled headlong into a dark, honeyed place crammed with the taste, the feel, the smell of them.

He knew his weight crushed her, but he took his time separating from her. Even then, it hit like a blow, and he tucked her tight against his side.

“William?”

“Aye.”

“I like that so much better than fighting.”

* * * *

Something wrenched her hair, making her scalp throb.

“Pretty,” said a voice she knew but could not place.

Alice screamed and clawed at the thing causing pain.

“Pretty.” Her limbs banged together as it shook her.

Beneath her dangling feet water rushed past in frothing, boiling white foam. God, she would die if she went in there. She could not swim.

“Alice.”

She fought the hold on her. She had to get free.

“Alice!”

She woke with a cry, her heart pounding in her ears.

“Alice.” William’s voice, deep and soothing. William’s hands, stroking her back and drawing her close to the comfort of his chest. “You were having a nightmare.”

It had been so real. The smell of the river, the blurred faces staring on in horror. Alice burrowed into William’s chest.

“Can you tell me what is was about?” William tightened his hold on her.

Alice shook head. In his arms, the shadows of the dream place receded.

William would rather impale himself on a gatepost than do this, but he needed answers, and the rotten nun seemed to keep the secrets at Tarnwych. At least, she kept Alice’s secrets.

That must have been one damnable dream Alice had the night before. She might not want to speak of it, but she’d called over and over again to Sister, pleading with her not to do something. It had taken a long while for her to ease back into slumber.

Thus, he set off to find the evil nun because of a conversation he and Beatrice had had with thick-skulled Aonghas.

Thin shoulders hunched over, the crone crouched before the fire in the hall. Condemn them as wasteful for the larger fires, did she? If she got any closer to the heat, she’d catch flame.

“Sister Julianna.” He eased into it with a charming smile and a friendly tone. “I am very glad to see you so much recovered.”

She snatched her rosary beads and wrapped them around her fist. “Are you?”

So much for the pleasantries. “Of course, Sister. I would hate to see anyone suffer.”

With a sniff, she turned back to the fire.

At this rate, they would be thicker than ticks by the end of the day. Perhaps brush each other’s hair. He took the chair opposite her and motioned a serf for wine. “I wanted to speak to you about Alice.”

Her dark eyes glittered as she stared at him.

“Did anything happen to Alice as a small girl?” His impaling gatepost might very well provide more information than the evil nun.

“Lots of things happened to her.” Sister tightened her grip on the rosary, her knuckles whitening.

“Indeed.” King John in a temper had more charm than Sister Sunshine. “I was more referring to an incident that would have upset her enough to follow her into adulthood.”

“Why?”

“She had a nightmare last night,” he said.

“Her conscience is troubled.” Sister hunched her shoulders and stared into the fire.

William grabbed onto the fraying ends of his temper. “Has she had nightmares before?”

“Why do you not ask her?” Sister worked the beads through her stick-thin fingers.

“Because it upsets her to speak of it.”

“Then do not speak of it.”

He rather fancied giving her a shove into the hearth to see if she remained untouched by flame. “You have been with her a long time, have you not?”

The subject change might have caught her off guard, because she swung her head back to him. “Since Alice was an infant.”

“And how came that about?” In his experience, Holy Sisters remained cloistered for most of their lives. Two days hence lay a convent. He had seen it when he rode this way for his wedding.

“She was a babe. Her mother died after delivering her.”

“You were here for a birth?”

“Alice was born at Yarborough,” she said in a tone that indicated he should have known as much.

“Indeed.” He showed his teeth in a mockery of a smile. “Then, you were at Yarborough for Alice’s birth.”

Sister nodded. The hag knew she got beneath his skin and loved it. “Her mother had a difficult time with her birth. Sir Ivo sent for me.”

“Because you were good with healing?”

Sister heaved a harsh sigh. “Nay. I was the woman’s nearest relative. She was my cousin.”

“Ah.” Convents often sent a close female relative to help in times of trouble. “So, why did you not return to the convent?”

“You would like that, would you not?” Her eyes raked him from head to toe. “You would like to have a free run here at Tarnwych.”

William reached the end of his tether. “Indeed.” He rose. Five more minutes in her company and he would forget he did not hurt women. “Your presence here creates ill will, and I dislike your influence on Alice. But Alice loves you and feels loyalty to you, and for those reasons you have a home here. However, my tolerance wears thin.”

She flushed and then paled. “You threaten me?”

“Not a threat, Sister, more of a promise. Watch yourself in my keep.”

“I see you.” Sister jabbed a bony finger at him. “I see you, Satan, behind your pretty mask. You will not prevail here.”

“Oh, for the love of God—”

“You speak the Lord’s name?” Her eyes started out of her head. “You utter the name of the most high from your tainted lips?”

She was working herself into a lather. “Sister, I suggest you calm yourself.”

“You fill this keep with whores and blasphemers. I am all that stands in your way and you would see me removed.”

If she lost her reason, he could justify slapping her. William winced at his own thought. He knew better. “Be calm, Sister. I—”

“The Lord will rain down his vengeance on your head.” She jerked to standing and stood before him swaying like a sapling in a storm. “He will visit his wrath on the unrighteous and the un-Godly. He will….”

She ranted on in that vein, but William ceased listening. He searched for a likely serving woman. “You. Go and fetch Lady Alice. Tell her Sister is unwell.”

Eyes round as trenchers, the woman gaped at him before nodding and scampering away.

Sister had gone so pale now her skin appeared translucent. She had lost her mind, her reason addled, and worked herself into a steaming froth. Every time he opened his mouth, he made it worse. William clamped his lips shut as her reedy voice bounced off the walls. Even Sister had to run out of imprecations to God at some point.

Alice entered the hall at a run. She glanced from him to Sister.

William shrugged. “I was asking her about the convent.”

“Asking her what?” Alice approached Sister. “There now, Sister.” She caught Sister’s flailing hand. “It is Alice. You will make yourself ill if you continue in this manner.”

Sister’s feral gaze found Alice. Spittle spattered her chin. “He would see me removed from here. The Evil One dwells within him and forces him to send me away.”

Alice frowned. “William would never do that.”

William shifted. Actually, he might well send her away. “Not without discussing it with you first,” he said to Alice.

Alice drew Sister away from the hearth step by step. The woman looked ready to collapse, but still stopped every few feet to call down hell upon his head.

Back to the convent she would go. He now had to convince Alice of it.

* * * *

Alice added one of Ivy’s concoctions to the warmed milk for Sister. Perhaps her recent illness made Sister more fervent, because it grew harder to calm her after each incident with William.

Supporting her shoulders, Alice encouraged Sister to take a sip of the milk.

“You must be vigilant, Alice.” Sister clasped Alice’s hands around the mug. “Temptation rises like a noxious weed to choke this keep.”

“I will be, Sister. Here, take another sip. I prepared it for you myself.”

Sister took another small sip. “I curse the day he came to this place.”

Alice blessed that day. The day light had entered her life, and colors grew bolder and sharper. “Have another sip. It will calm you.”