“And what do you, a woman, know of honor?” he sneered.
“Very little. In fact I know very little about anything except music. But at least I’m willing to admit I have faults. I have wronged these people, and I’m trying to right my wrong. You, my high lord, have wronged me—and your daughter whom you don’t even ask about.”
“I have heard of her,” Raine said stiffly.
Alyx let out a sound that ran across Raine’s skin like a steel rasp. “How big of you!” she spat. “The great, lordly Raine, lord of the forests, king of the outlaws, has heard of his own daughter.”
She quietened. “I came here to win you back, but now I’m not sure I want you. Stay away from me. Take your cold honor to bed with you.”
“There are other women willing to share my bed,” he said, eyes hard.
“My pity goes to them,” Alyx forced out. “As for me, I prefer a different sort of man, one who is not so stiff and cold, one who is still alive.”
She did not see his arm shoot out. He was always faster, stronger, than she remembered. His strong fingers bit into the back of her waist and as her eyes locked with his, he smiled slightly, humorously, as he pulled her close to him.
Bending his head, his lips hovered above hers. “Cold, am I?” he said, and his voice sent chills down her spine.
Some small part of Alyx’s brain could still reason. He meant to teach her a lesson, did he? she thought, as she stood on tiptoe and slipped her arms about his neck.
When their lips touched, both of them drew in their breaths sharply and pulled away from each other, violet eyes staring into blue. Alyx blinked once, twice, before Raine’s mouth descended on hers with the hunger of a dying man. He straightened, his arms about her, and her feet came off the ground as he grabbed the back of her head in his strong hand and turned her head sideways. His tongue thrust inside her mouth, sending sparks so hot through her body that they seemed to burn away her strength. Her body went limp against his, allowing him to support her full weight.
His lips began working against hers, pulling her closer, his hand massaging, kneading her head, his fingers playing with the muscles in the back of her neck.
Alyx began to tighten her grip in her attempt to get nearer. Her legs moved upward until they were about his waist. She turned her head, taking the initiative as her tongue tangled with his, her teeth hard against his lips.
The sound of approaching riders, many horses strong, came through to Raine’s sense of danger. Slowly, groggily, he came out of the red fog and roughly, angrily, set Alyx away from him.
For a moment, his expression was soft; then it turned cold again. “Did you hope to entice me back to you?” he whispered. “Did you use the same weapons on Chatworth?”
It took Alyx a moment to understand what he meant. “You are a fool, Raine Montgomery,” she said softly. “Does your hate override your love?” With that, she lifted her skirts, forgetting the water buckets at her feet, and turned back to camp. Behind her she heard Raine talking to the riders, his voice unnecessarily angry.
Chapter Twenty
FOR WHAT GOOD it is,” Joan was saying as she combed Alyx’s curls, “the people are less angry with you.” There was no congratulation in Joan’s voice. “When are you going to stop wasting your time and go after Lord Raine? We’ve been here two whole weeks and still he only glares at you. You should strip off your clothes and climb into bed with him.”
“He’d gloat too much,” Alyx said, buttoning the purple wool of her sleeve. “I’ll not give him the satisfaction of winning so easily. He’s said some awful things to me.”
At this, Joan laughed. “What does it matter what men say? They have brains only for killing each other. Put a sword in a man’s hand and he’s happy. A woman must work to teach him there are things in life besides war.”
“Perhaps you’re right. Raine worries more about whether I have betrayed him than he does about how his child fares alone without its mother. Perhaps I should return to my Catherine and leave Raine to his brooding.”
“Brooding is correct,” Joan said. “Did you know that he has slept with no woman since he returned from Lord Gavin’s?”
Alyx’s smile started small and stretched very wide.
“He loves you, Alyx,” Joan said softly.
&
nbsp; “Then why doesn’t he show it! Why does he sneer and glower at me? When I am with Rosamund I’ll look up and there he’ll be, watching me with his cold looks. I feel as if I’ve had the icy river water tossed on my body.”
Joan laughed delightedly. “He is showing you that he cares! What do you expect him to do—apologize?” Joan laughed even harder at this idea. “The Lord made women stronger so they could put up with men’s weaknesses. You say you were wrong to treat the forest people as you did, so you admitted it and set about changing your error. Do you think any man could be so strong?”
“Raine has accused me of being a traitor,” she said stubbornly.
“The King has said Lord Raine is a traitor. The King is wrong, but will he admit it? No more so than your husband will come to you and ask you to forgive him.”
“I don’t like this,” Alyx said, her lower lip thrust out. “I have done no wrong to Raine. Roger Chatworth—”