Page 17 of The Sword and the Damsel (The De Veres #2)

I t was mid-afternoon when Victor led Alais through the village of Guestling to the round, crenelated stone tower that dominated it. For the first time in a long time, he was looking forward to coming home.

“I still can’t believe Daniel composed that,” Alais said for the third time since they left Richard and the inn. “Does Carenza know?”

“I couldn’t begin to guess.” The truth was he strongly suspected she did, but he wasn’t about to admit he’d given the matter any thought. “Oh, and that song I sang in front of your suitors? The word was supposed to be ‘cunt’, not ‘queen’.”

“’That these things three things do not please me: a cunt under guard, a pond without fish…’ I see now why they didn’t want you singing it. It was quite clever of you to change the word. It all sounded quite innocent to me.”

Victor smiled. “Yes, and I am destroying your innocence quite thoroughly now, aren’t I? Although I’ve always thought it hypocritical that men aren’t expected to remain innocent, but women are. And really the word ‘innocence’ is disingenuous. What they really mean is ignorance. Now that you’re my wife and not my charge, I’m going to take great delight in ruining you with forbidden knowledge.”

She laughed. “You sound like my brother, may he rest in peace. He always encouraged us to read and explore and do things we weren’t supposed to. Like ride his destrier, Valor, when I was only ten. Valor was even bigger than Socorro.”

“He wasn’t worried you’d get hurt?”

She shook her head. “He trusted me to know my own capabilities. I was good with horses, always had been. And still am. He reminded me of the risks, said he thought I could handle it, and let me make my own decision. It turned out Valor loved me.”

Victor laughed. “Everyone loves you, man and beast.”

She chuckled and shook her head. “Tell that to Carenza.”

“Carenza is neither man nor beast. Oh, and speaking of Carenza, please don’t tell her or Daniel that I sang that song about a peach in front of you.”

Victor was feeling pleased with how the day had gone so far. It was risky, introducing her to Richard, but oh, had it paid off! The look on her face after the cat song was priceless. And she even complimented his own lackluster singing and mediocre lute skills when he sang the song by Daniel, though Victor was a bit worried he’d made a mistake there. Daniel almost certainly didn’t want that song getting back to his sister-in-law.

“I’ll never look at a peach the same way again,” Alais said with the same expression of scandalized fascination she’d worn since the cat song. “Oh my goodness, Carenza’s peach…”

“Best not to think about it too hard.”

“You are surely going to hell. Daniel too.”

“Oh, without a doubt.”

At that moment, a familiar form emerged from the castle gate and began ambling their way. “Brace yourself. Here comes my father.”

A tall, hairy man with an ample belly and skinny legs started bellowing his name. He had described his father to Alais as a fat goat, but now that he was staring at the man, Victor thought he was more like a once-proud lion gone to seed. His blond hair and beard were unkempt and streaked with white. His face had the permanent flush of someone always in their cups. His father had never had the healthiest of habits.

“Good God, Victor, can it possibly be you? I’d given up on ever seeing you again. It’s been months since you visited. And who is this beauty you bring with you—a de Vere by the looks of her unless I’m very much mistaken.”

Victor dismounted, and let his father embrace him and thump his back hard enough to make him wheeze momentarily. “Father, let me introduce my wife, Lady Alais, daughter of Lord and Lady de Vere.”

He enjoyed watching his father’s expression at the word “wife.” It was all he’d hoped. His father stood speechless for several moments, blustering and spluttering, turning redder by the second.

“Wife?” he roared as the words sank in. “Are you telling me my only child went off and got married and didn’t invite me?! Who raised you?”

“I’m sorry, Father. It all happened rather suddenly, just yesterday in fact. I came as soon as I could manage.” Truth be told, he was relieved that it had happened too fast for his father to attend. He loved his father, but he was hardly fit for polite company these days. He’d gone feral, living alone in the castle with only the servants for company.

His father gave Victor and Alais a sharp look. “Sudden, eh?” Then he burst out laughing. “By God, your mother and I got married suddenly too. Sometimes you can’t help yourself. She is a pretty little thing, isn’t she? I can’t say I blame you.” He swept into as gallant a bow as his portly shape would allow. “I am Lord Giles. It is an honor to welcome you to Guestling, my lady. I see you have your father’s eyes and your mother’s loveliness.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, my lord. You know my parents?” Alais asked, curtsying.

“Of course, I know your parents! We live too close not to know each other. In fact, I’ve met you several times, though you may not remember. You couldn’t have been older than six the last time I saw you. I seem to recall Victor here rescuing you from a large mastiff that barked at you and gave you a scare.”

Servants led away their horses, and they made their way into the castle.

“I remember that!” Alais said, taking Victor’s arm and squeezing it. “I had no idea that was you.” She kissed his cheek. He must be getting used to her company because he only froze for a few seconds before he recovered.

His father elbowed him in the side. “Your mother used to look at me like that.”

Inside the castle, everything was clean and tidy but shabby. The upholstery was faded and worn through in places. Paint was chipped and stained. Rugs had bare patches. Victor knew Guestling brought in a modest but comfortable income, and he’d added significantly to their collective assets from his time in Spain and his work for his aunt. His father could afford to have things repaired and replaced. He just didn’t bother.

As expected, they retired to the great hall, and his father called for his cook, Marie, and consulted with the shy, plump widow in whispers for several minutes before sending her off with a playful spank and then pouring generous flagons of wine for all three of them. Soon the food began to arrive, starting with a fresh, golden baguette, still warm from the oven, served with fresh goat cheese, duck confit, and gherkins. Victor always had had a weakness for Marie’s duck confit, and he dug in with relish.

“So tell me how this all came about, my boy. When Robert went off to that tournament, I thought he might be bringing a young lady home, but it seems you beat him to it!”

Alais stiffened beside him at the mention of Robert’s name. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze beneath the table, and she squeezed back. Before he could respond, Alais spoke up.

“Robert asked for my hand, but I turned him down. Victor had already won my heart with his bravery and his kindness toward me.” It was sweet of her to spin this tale for his father. The truth would come out eventually, but he was grateful to her for the lie.

And then she turned to him. “He was shy about courting me, but it was his scarf and his colors I wore at the tournament. I can’t tell you how my heart was pounding as I placed the ring on his finger for his triumph at swordsmanship. I was his before he dared to speak a word.”

He knew she was embellishing for his father’s sake, but the look in her eyes took his breath away. If he didn’t know better, even he would have been convinced by her performance.

A tray of fresh oysters arrived with an assortment of sauces. “Always knew you had it in you, my boy,” his father chuckled before loudly slurping down an oyster. “Christ, you took your time about it, though! Didn’t think you were ever going to get the deed done.” He slurped another oyster. “A man reaches a certain age, and he wants grandchildren, for God’s sake!”

Victor nearly spit out his wine. He glanced at Alais to see if she was about to run away in horror, but he found her grinning and raising her glass to him. He opened his mouth to say something and closed it, opting for more wine and duck confit instead.

Bowls of rich and beautifully spiced pottage were placed in front of them. Victor inhaled deeply. Marie’s pottage had always been the smell of home. When he was in Spain recovering from his wounds, he thought he smelled it on the breeze once, and it reduced him to tears. He knew if he ate the whole bowl, he would have no room for the courses yet to come, but there was no hope of holding back.

He was pleased to see Alais savoring each bite. It brought him joy to share this meal with her, to see her pleasure in the food that fed his soul. He laughed about his father stuffing visitors like capons, but he understood it. There was something so intimate about breaking bread together. It created a connection that went beyond hospitality. And beautiful food like Marie’s was a sensual experience, a teasing of the tongue every bit as beguiling as a kiss. He used to wonder if his father was sleeping with Marie, but he’d long since realized that their relationship was far more intimate than that. He made love to her food, and she made love to his appetite. Whether they touched each other was entirely beside the point.

“How have you been, Father? I’m glad to see you in good health.”

“Same as ever. Nothing new to tell. I’m getting older and slower.” His father took a bite of pottage. “And fatter, thanks to Marie. She takes good care of me.” He helped himself to another oyster. “If you want my advice, which you probably don’t, you’ll be on the lookout for a good cook now that you have a wife. With a good cook and a good wife, a man can be truly happy. Can’t have Marie, though. She’s mine.”

“I wouldn’t dream of taking Marie away from you.”

“Who’s taking who away from whom?” Victor’s head whipped to the door where Robert leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, taking in the scene. Alais’s hand clutched his arm like a vice. “Lady Alais, what an unexpected surprise.”

“Robert, I thought you were coming by tomorrow,” his father said. “Victor stopped by unexpectedly to introduce me to his new wife. I gather you and she are acquainted already.”

Alais’s grip tightened even further on his arm. Her nails dug in painfully. Every muscle in his body tensed.

“Congratulations, my lady. I see now why you turned me down. I didn’t think you had it in you to be so calculating and cold-blooded. He might be the heir, and I’m only second in line, but I never thought a woman would be able to get past his face. You proved me wrong.”

Victor sprang to his feet, pulling free of Alais’s grasp.

His father rose at the same moment. “Victor, don’t touch your blade. Robert, I think you’d better leave.” His voice was ice.

“And you, Victor,” Robert continued, ignoring the warning. “I’m surprised you’re willing to sully this house with damaged goods. I had my way with this little whore before she turned me down, or didn’t you hear?”

“Oh, I heard, and I know for a fact that it’s a lie. If we weren’t beneath my father’s roof, I would kill you for it right now. Out of respect for him, I’m giving you a chance to leave, but if I ever see you again, you are a dead man.”

“So ungrateful,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning against the door. “I saved your life in Spain.”

Victor’s hand flew to his sword, and it was halfway out of its sheath when he felt his father grab him by the collar with an iron fist.

“Leave now, Robert,” his father growled.

Robert gave a sullen shrug and left.

Blood pounded in Victor’s head, screaming for him to chase after Robert and end him. He shook with rage and the urge to shed blood. Only his father’s hand on his collar kept him still. He was tempted to break away but knew his father would never forgive him.

“Peace, Victor. Let him go. He’s bitter and disappointed. It’s no excuse for what he said, but I can’t let you do something you’ll regret.” His father released him at last. “You should see to your wife. She looks unwell.”

Oh God. Alais.

All the color had drained from her face. She sat hunched in her chair, squeezing the fabric of her skirt into balls.

He gently pulled her hands away from the fabric and into his own. “Alais?”

A tear dripped down her cheek, and then another.

“Come here,” he said, pulling her into his arms and thumbing away her tears.

He led her away to his old room. His father had never changed it, even though it had been years since he had lived in it. There were the old swords he collected in his youth over the mantle. Three bows of varying sizes were propped up in the corner. A dusty lute sat on a threadbare chair. The bed was small, but the bedding was freshly laundered. He helped her lay down, taking off her shoes and loosening the laces of her dress so that she could breathe more freely. He took off his boots and joined her on the narrow bed, pulling her to him and wrapping his arms around her.

“I’m never going to escape this, am I?” she asked, burying her face in his chest. “It’s going to follow me forever. Now your father’s going to wonder, just like my father did. It’s never going to end.”

She rested her head beneath his chin, and he caressed her hair. He didn’t trust himself to say anything. He wanted to tear Robert limb from limb.

“I was having such a lovely day too.” She propped herself up to look at him. “Thank you for today. It was wonderful.” She kissed him with aching tenderness. Her sweetness only intensified his fury at Robert. How could he hurt her? How could anyone ever want to hurt her?

“I’m going to kill him.” He probably shouldn’t have said that out loud.

“No, please don’t! I don’t want anyone to die over this. I already feel awful enough. That would only make everything worse.”

Victor gritted his teeth. He couldn’t take revenge against her wishes, but everything in him urged violence. He was done with Robert.

“Victor?” She hovered above him and stroked his hair. He was undone by the plea in her eyes.

“Yes?”

“You won’t, will you?”

He took a deep breath. “Not if you don’t want me to.”

She closed her eyes and then settled back down against his chest. “Maybe we could leave him with those sisters with the cat from the song, though. That seems like a fitting revenge.”

He chuckled. “Or cut off all his hair and make him wear a wimple.”

She giggled. She was so beautiful when she giggled. He kissed her. It felt strange to be able to just do that. He did it again to prove to himself that he could. Her whole body curved toward his when he touched her lips.

“ Mm . Did you have anything else planned for today?”

“I did, but I don’t imagine you’d be interested under the circumstances.”

“Oh? What was it?”

“I wanted to make amends for my hurtful behavior last night by worshipping every inch of your divine form as you deserve.”

Her eyes flashed with desire at his words. It still felt like a miracle that he could make her feel such things, and he prayed it always would. He traced a finger along her jaw, and her lips parted. Her chin inclined toward his. As he leaned in to kiss her, he stopped short, holding the tension, feeling the sweet pull as she leaned closer, hungry for him, eager for contact. Giving in at last, he touched his lips to hers, welcoming the soft pressure and the gentle tug followed by a delicate taste.

“I’m interested,” she murmured between kisses.

“Are you sure?”

“Very sure.”