The Velvet Promise Read Free

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