pier.”
He cocked his head and offered her his most charming smile, awaiting a response to his direct address. She had to speak to him now, and he would savor every word of the victory.
* * * *
“There were dead rats on the dock.”
“Alyse!” Thomas’s outraged tone brought censure for her bald statement, but she cared not.
Geoffrey had trapped her into speaking with him or risk being rude and bringing about the displeasure of her husband. Common sense warned her to avoid all contact, including conversation, with Geoffrey Longford. Since he had made that impossible in this instance, she chose her own bold method of bringing an end to the conversation : make it as unpleasant as possible.
“Well, ’tis true, Thomas. We passed them on the way to the carriage.”
Geoffrey laughed, apparently determined not to take offense. “Aye, lady, you will find them living and dead all over the town, not just at the quay.” Turning to Thomas, he added, “There were fewer of them at Port St. Croix than at St. Lucie. ’Tis why Sir Robert decided to land the nobles here. Where the men-at-arms and the long bowmen came ashore, the dead rats were almost knee-deep in places.”
“Lord have mercy!” Alyse shuddered, sudden pity arising for the soldiers.
“They have had a plague of them recently here in Bordeaux, I am told.” Geoffrey’s gaze lingered on her face, a quiet satisfaction alight in the blue depths. “Brought into port aboard foreign ships. You would probably have to fire the entire town to get rid of them.”
Alyse trembled, not only at the thought of the unsavory animals running through the town, but at the look in Geoffrey’s eyes that made her stomach clench and her womanhood throb. She drew closer to Thomas, a potent misery stealing through her for the first time in days.
The men continued to talk, but she paid them no heed, caught in a private hell from which she had believed herself safe. She would have to be vigilant to ensure neither she nor Thomas were burned by the fire that had been kindled months ago between her and Geoffrey Longford. She could not trust any of them now—neither her husband to keep his jealousy in check, nor Geoffrey to cease his pursuit of her, nor herself to keep him at bay.
She had believed she loved Thomas enough to lay the ghost of Geoffrey to rest in their bed. But from the moment she had seen him on deck this morning, her beloved still, she knew deep in her very core that Geoffrey had been right: it would never be over between them until they were dead and in the tomb.
This realization frightened her beyond all reason. It was as though she had been two people in one body all day, each belonging to a different man. As long as they lived that would never change. She played with fire each time she met with or spoke to Geoffrey, and one day the banked embers would flame up and consume them both.
There would be hell to pay one way or the other. The only question was how much damage would be wrought. Immortal souls hung in the balance, waiting for Judgment Day.
Chapter 2
The long banquet hall in the royal palace of Bordeaux sparkled with candlelight and laughter as Princess Joanna’s welcoming feast for her courtiers proceeded in full force. The great fireplaces at either end gave off additional light, illuminating the costly tapestries and coats of arms lining the walls. From the lower dais, Alyse stared at those ornaments, a bleak reminder of the princess’s superior status within King Edward’s royal family and the power she wielded over her courtiers. Power Alyse keenly lacked tonight.
Food had been masterfully prepared in the French style , and rich wine from the local vineyards flowed freely. Under Geoffrey’s careful direction, preparations had been executed with expert organization, making this first banquet a triumph for Princess Joanna.
And more than a small trial for Alyse.
She picked idly at the delicious beef in wine sauce and sipped the robust
Carolyn McCray, Ben Hopkin