The Velvet Promise (2 page)

And with it came a sense of promise—and passion.

When she was sure the horse's hooves would not be heard, she leaned forward and whispered to him. "Go, my black devil. Take me to my lover."

The stallion pranced to show he understood, then stretched his front legs long and straight. It knew the way and ate up ground at a tremendous rate.

Alice shook her head, letting the air blow against her face as she gave herself over to the power and strength of the magnificent animal. Gavin.

Gavin. Gavin, the hooves seemed to say as they thundered on the hard-packed road. There were many ways that the muscle of a horse between her thighs reminded her of Gavin. His strong hands on her body, the strength of him that made her weak with desire. His face, the moonlight glinting on his cheekbones, his eyes bright even on the darkest night.

"Ah, my sweet, careful now," Alice said lightly as she pulled back on the reins. Now that she was nearing the trysting place, she began to remember what she had so carefully tried to forget. This time Gavin would have heard of her impending marriage, and he would be angry with her.

She turned her face to catch the wind directly. She blinked rapidly until the tears began to form. Tears would help. Gavin always hated tears, so she had used them carefully during the last two years. Only when she desperately wanted something did she resort to the trick; thus it did not grow thin from overuse.

Alice sighed. Why couldn't she speak honestly to Gavin? Why must men always be treated so gently? He loved her, therefore he should love what she did, however disagreeable to him. It was a useless hope and she knew it. If she told Gavin the truth, she would lose him. Then where would she find another lover?

The memory of his body, hard and demanding, made Alice push the heels of her soft shoes into the horse's side. Oh yes, she would use tears or whatever else was needed to keep Gavin Montgomery, a knight of renown, a fighter without equal… and hers, all hers!

Suddenly, she could almost hear Ela's needling questions. If Alice wanted Gavin, why then was she promising herself to Edmund Chatworth, a man with skin the color of a fish's belly, with fat, soft hands and an ugly little mouth that formed a perfect circle?

Because Edmund was an earl. He owned land from one end of England to the other, estates in Ireland, Wales, Scotland, and, it was rumored, in France as well. Of course Alice could not know exactly the extent of his wealth, but she would. Oh yes, when she was his wife, she would know.

Edmund's mind was as weak as his body, and it would not be long before she controlled him as well as his property. She would keep him happy with a few whores and tend to the estates herself, unhampered by any man's interfering demands and commands.

Alice had a passion for the handsome Gavin but that did not cloud her judgment. Who was Gavin Montgomery? A minor baron—not rich, but poor. A brilliant fighter, a strong, handsome man, but he had no wealth—

not compared to Edmund. And what would life with Gavin be? The nights would be nights of passion and ecstasy, but Alice knew well that no woman would ever control Gavin. If she married Gavin, he would expect her to stay home and do women's work. No, no woman would ever control Gavin Montgomery. He would be as demanding a husband as he was a lover.

She pushed the horse forward. She wanted it all—Edmund's fortune and position and Gavin's passion. She smiled as she straightened the gold brooches, one on either shoulder, that held the flamboyant mantle in place. He loved her—Alice was confident he did—and she would not lose his love. How could she? What woman came close to her in beauty?

Alice began blinking rapidly. A few tears and he would understand that she was being
forced
to marry Edmund. Gavin was a man of honor. He would understand that she must uphold her father's agreement with Edmund. Yes, if she were cautious, she would have them both; Gavin for the nights, Edmund's wealth for the day.

Gavin stood silently—waiting. The only part of him that moved was a muscle in his jaw, flexing and unflexing. The silver moonlight glinted off his cheekbones until they looked like knife blades. His straight, firm mouth was drawn into a severe line above a cleft chin. His gray eyes were black with anger, almost as black as the hair that curled about the neck of the wool jacket.

Only long years of strenuous training as a knight allowed him such rigid outward control. Inside, he was seething. This morning he'd heard that the woman he loved was to marry another; to bed with another man, her children belonging to him. His first impulse had been to ride straight to the Valence keep and demand that she deny what he'd heard. But his pride held him back. This meeting with her had been arranged weeks ago, so he forced himself to wait until he could see her again, hold her again and hear her tell him, from her own sweet lips, what he wanted to hear.

She would marry no one but him. Of that he was sure.

He stared across the emptiness of the night, listening for the sound of hoofbeats; but the countryside was silent, a mass of darkness broken only by the darker shadows. A dog skulked from one tree to the next, eyeing Gavin, wary of the silent, still man. The night brought back memories of the first time he and Alice had met in this clearing, a wind-sheltered place open to the sky. In the day a man could ride past it and not notice it, but at night the shadows transformed it into a black velvet box, only big enough to hold a jewel.

Gavin had met Alice at the wedding of one of her sisters. Although! the Montgomerys and the Valences were neighbors, they rarely saw each other. Alice's father was a drunkard. He cared little for his estates; he lived

—and forced his wife and five daughters to live—as poorly as some serfs. It was out of a sense of duty that Gavin attended a wedding there, as a representative of his family actually, his three brothers having refused to go.

Out of the dung heap of filth and neglect, Gavin saw Alice—his beautiful, innocent Alice. He could not at first believe she was one of the family of fat, plain daughters. Her clothes were of the richest materials, her manners delicate and refined, and her beauty…

He'd sat and stared at her, as several of the other young men did. She was perfect; blonde hair, blue eyes, a little mouth that he ached to make smile. Right then, before he'd even spoken to her, he'd become infatuated with her. Later, he had to plow his way through men to get to her side. His violence seemed to shock Alice and her lowered eyes, her soft voice had mesmerized him further. She was so shy, so reticent that she could hardly answer his questions. Alice was all and more than he could hope for—

virginal yet womanly.

That night, he asked her to marry him. She gave him a startled look, her eyes like sapphires for a moment. Then she lowered her head and murmured something about needing to ask her father.

The next day Gavin went to the drunkard and asked for Alice, but the man gave him some nonsense about the girl's mother needing her. His words were strangely halting, as if he'd been coached and spoke a memorized speech. Nothing Gavin said could make Valence change his mind.

Gavin left in disgust, furious at being thwarted from having the woman he wanted. He had not ridden far when he saw her. Her hair was uncovered, the setting sun making it glow, the rich blue velvet of her gown reflecting her eyes. She was anxious to hear what her father's answer was.

Gavin told her, angrily, and then he'd seen her tears. Alice tried to hide them, but he could feel them as well as see them. In minutes, he was off his horse, pulling her from hers. He didn't remember how it happened.

One minute he was comforting her. The next, they were here, in this secret place, their clothes removed and in the throes of passion. He did not know whether to apologize or rejoice. Sweet Alice was no serf to tumble in the hay; she was a lady, someday to be his lady. And she was a virgin. Of that he was sure when he saw the two drops of blood on her slim thighs.

Two years! Two years ago that had been. If he had not spent most of the time in Scotland, patrolling the borders, he would have demanded her father give Alice to him. Now that he'd returned, he planned to do just that. In fact, if need be, he would go to the king with his plea. Valence was unreasonable. Alice told Gavin of her talks with her father, of her begging and pleading with him, but to no avail. Once she showed him a bruise she received for pressing Gavin's suit. Gavin had been insane then. He'd grabbed his sword and would have gone after the man if Alice hadn't clung to him, tears in her eyes, and begged him please not to harm her father. He could refuse her tears nothing, so he sheathed his sword and promised her he would wait. Alice reassured him that her father would eventually see reason.

So they had continued to meet secretly, like wayward children—a situation that disgusted Gavin. Yet Alice begged him not to see her father, to allow her to persuade him.

Gavin shifted his stance now and listened again. Still there was only silence. This morning he'd heard Alice was to marry that piece of water-slime, Edmund Chatworth. Chatworth paid the king an enormous fee so that he would not be called upon to fight in any wars. He was not a man, Gavin thought. Chatworth did not deserve the title of earl. To think of Alice married to such as that was beyond imagination.

Suddenly all Gavin's senses came alert as he heard the muffled sounds of the horse's hooves on the damp ground. He was beside Alice instantly and she fell into his arms.

"Gavin," she whispered, "my sweet Gavin." She clung to him, almost as if in terror.

He tried to pull her away so he could see her face but she held him with such desperation that he dared not to. He felt the wetness of her tears on his neck and all the rage he'd felt during the day left him. He held her close to him, murmuring endearments in her little ear, stroking her hair. "Tell me, what is it? What has hurt you so?"

She moved away so she could look at him, secure in the knowledge that the night could not betray the lack of redness in her eyes. "It's too awful,"

Alice whispered hoarsely. "It is too much to bear."

Gavin stiffened somewhat as he remembered what he'd heard about her marriage. "Is it true then?"

She sniffed delicately, touched a finger to the corner of her eye and looked up at him through her lashes. "My father cannot be persuaded. I even refused food to make him change his mind, but he had one of the women… No, I won't tell you what they did to me. He said he would—Oh, Gavin, I cannot say the things he said to me." She felt Gavin stiffen.

"I will go to him and—"

"No!" Alice said almost frantically, her hands clasping his muscular arms. "You cannot! I mean…" She lowered her arms and her lashes. "I mean, it's already done. The betrothal has been signed and witnessed.

There is nothing anyone can do now. If my father withdrew me from the bargain, he would still have to pay my dowry to Chatworth."

"I will pay it," Gavin said stonily.

Alice gave him a look of surprise; then more tears gathered in her eyes.

"It wouldn't matter. My father will not allow me to marry you. You know that. Oh, Gavin, what am I to do? I will be forced to marry a man I do not love." She looked up at him with such a look of desperation that Gavin pulled her close to him. "How could I bear to lose you, my love?" she whispered against his neck. "You are meat and drink to me, sun and night. I… I will die if I lose you."

"Don't say that! How can you lose me? You know I feel the same about you."

She pulled away to look at him, suddenly happier. "Then you do love me? Truly love me, so that if our love is tested, I will still be sure of you?"

Gavin frowned. "Tested?"

Alice smiled through her tears. "Even if I marry Edmund, you will still love me?"

"Marry!" He nearly shouted as he pushed her from him. "You plan to
marry
this man?"

"Have I a choice?" They stood in silence, Gavin glaring at her, Alice with eyes demurely lowered. "I will go then. I will go from your sight. You needn't look at me again."

She was almost to her horse before he reacted. He grabbed her roughly, pulling her mouth to his until he bruised her. There were no words then; none were needed. Their bodies understood each other even if they couldn't agree. Gone was the shy young lady. In her place was the Alice of passion that Gavin had come to know so well. Her hands tore frantically at his clothes until they quickly lay in a heap.

She laughed throatily when he stood nude before her. His body was hard-muscled from many years of training. He was a good head taller than Alice, who often towered over men. His shoulders were broad, his chest powerfully thick. Yet his hips were slim, his stomach flat, the muscles divided into ridges. His thighs and calves bulged muscle, strong from years of wearing heavy armor.

Alice stepped away from him and sucked her breath in through her teeth as she devoured the sight of him. Her hands reached for him as if they were claws.

Gavin pulled her to him, kissed the little mouth that opened widely under his as her tongue plunged into his mouth. He pulled her close, the feel of her gown exciting against his bare skin. His lips moved to her cheek, to her neck. They had all night, and he meant to spend his time making love to her.