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  Humbled, Thomas stared at Alesone. Though she hurt, her only consideration was for him. And she was right. So caught up in his grief over the years, until this moment he’d never considered allowing himself even a shimmer of forgiveness.

  Nor could he overlook the quiet worry in her voice. With her father’s despicable interest in her, until Comyn was defeated, her life would be plagued by danger.

  “Even though you damned your actions, you tried to find a way to absolve your sins,” she said, breaking into his ruminations, “the reason you went to the monastery, to sacrifice any chance of a home or a family.”

  “A decision which infuriated my father.” He fisted his hands as memories cascaded through him. “We had a terrible row over my leaving. In the end, as I refused to consider any other option, he agreed.” He shrugged. “The rest you know.”

  Alesone nodded, smothering her heart-wrenching memories of Grisel, and focused on Thomas. “That you and your father have renewed a bond is significant, but I believe ’tis as important to mend the fracture between you and Donnchadh.”

  A muscle worked in his jaw. “For my brother and I, time has repaired naught, nor will the years ahead change that.”

  “Thomas—”

  “Dinna you recall his welcome upon our arrival?” he demanded. “Tell me, has he come to see me since? Nay, nor will he. He despises me,” he said, his voice growing hard, “and rightly so. Neither will I beg forgiveness from him when I deserve none.”

  “’Tis your brother!”

  “By blood. There is naught more.”

  “Because you refuse to try.”

  The anger in his eyes wilted to resignation, and Thomas rubbed the back of his neck, and then dropped his hand. “I didna expect you to understand.”

  The man was pigheaded! “And I didna expect for you to walk away without trying to salvage the remnants of your family however tattered.” Her eyes narrowed. “Dinna you understand how lucky you are? Nay, instead you cling to your grief, withdraw inside yourself when reminders of the old hurt arises.” She fisted her hands. “Damn you, I would give anything to have someone who loved me, however remote, than to have a father who after years only acknowledges my presence because now he finds me useful for his devious scheme.”

  Stunned by her outburst, aware she’d overstepped her bounds beyond acceptable, Alesone shook her head. “I…” What? How did one apologize for her impropriety? “I am sorry.” She turned and fled.

  Pain tore through Thomas’s body as he caught Alesone’s arm.

  “Let me go!”

  “Wait.” Anguish-filled eyes held his, and her words, however much he hadna wanted to hear them, made sense. “Stay, please. My anger isna at you, but me.” He gentled his hold. “Your father is a fool to have shunned a woman who is amazing in her own right.” Her expression grew tender, and he nodded. “Mayhap you are right, and I should try to repair the rift with Donnchadh.”

  “You will?”

  The tension in her eyes shifted to hope, and to make her happy, the sacrifice of speaking to his brother a small price to pay. “Aye.”

  “Thank you.”

  Humbled by this perceptive woman, he brushed away loose strands of hair that’d fallen on her cheek. “’Tis I who should be thanking you. You make me see what I dinna want to, dare question me when I try to push you away.” Thomas drew her to him, needing to feel her against him, her warmth, her spirit, and savored the rightness of her in his arms.

  How in such a short time had she become so important to him? As if she had any place in his life? Like his thoughts of settling at Conchar Castle, they were little more than a dream. Until the day he walked away from the battlefield, even if he wanted to, he could promise her naught.

  She leaned her head against his chest. “What are you thinking?”

  He drew in her scent of woman and heat, ached from the rightness of her. “How I wish,” he whispered, “that we could stay here forever.”

  In the firelight, she lifted her eyes to his, the desire within almost bringing him to his knees.

  Unable to stop himself, he claimed her mouth, the earlier desperation lost to a slow need, something he couldna define, but touching her, feeling her tremble in his arms, ’twas as essential as his next breath.

  Her breathing unsteady, she skimmed her hands up his chest, then her arms wrapped around his neck.

  The rush of emotion built as he took, slow and gentle until she was kissing him back, her demands unleashing his own. Her taste pouring through him, he ran his hands over her skin, along the curves of her gown. Holding her gaze, he loosened the ties of her gown, skimmed his fingers along the soft swell of her breast, then lowered his mouth to taste, savor, until her body trembled.

  “Thomas, I…”

  “I want you,” he whispered, stunned he’d spoken aloud. He should leave. To touch her now would do naught but make everything more difficult. Except against every reason, all he could think of was her, of this night, and of showing her all that she made him feel.

  Doubt flickered in her gaze. “But you are hurt.”

  “I am fine. And I will be gentle. I swear it.”

  She glanced at the bed, turned and gave a shaky nod.

  He ignored his body’s roar to take her, and savored each movement as he released the last few ties. The gown puddled at her feet. Firelight caressed her skin within its golden glow, each curve crafted as if made to make a man beg.

  She made to cover herself, but he caught her hand.

  “Nay, you are beautiful.” With reverence, he skimmed his fingers along her shoulders, and then cupped the silky weight of her breasts, and his entire body burned. “Perfect.” He tasted each hardened tip, slow, savoring, until her breaths fell out in desperate gasps. His mind raw with need, he swept her in his arms and carried her to the bed.

  “Thomas—”

  “Dinna move. I want to see you. Touch you. Everywhere.” With infinite slowness, he kissed her, caressed her until she grew restless beneath him, and her moans drove his control to the brink. Wanting to feel her fall apart, as he deepened the kiss, he skimmed his fingers lower, slid them into her moist heat.

  She gasped.

  “Just feel.” With each stroked, her body arched up to meet his caress, her movements frantic. On a cry, Alesone called out, and Thomas covered her mouth and drank in her passion, absorbed her every shudder.

  As she collapsed, he lay on his side and drew her against him, pressed a kiss on her mouth, her cheek, her chin, and then moved lower. “Now I—”

  A knock sounded on the other side of the door. “Mistress Alesone?” his father called.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Embarrassed by her nakedness, more so with warmth still pulsing through her, Alesone grabbed the cover, wrapped it around her as she glanced toward the door.

  His expression taut, Thomas pressed his finger over his lips.

  Lips that had slid with aching slowness over her body, made her feel sensations she’d never imagined. Oh God, his mouth.

  Another knock sounded at the door, this time louder.

  “I must get dressed!” she whispered.

  Thomas grimaced and moved away.

  Cheeks burning, she gave Thomas a hurried kiss then tugged on her gown.

  “Mistress Alesone?”

  At the duke’s urgent entreaty, she glanced over. “A moment, Your Grace.”

  Thomas caught her shoulders. “Let me speak with him.”

  “Are you mad! If he finds you here…” Shame filled her as she glanced toward the bed, her body still tingling from his touch.

  “I came here because I heard you cry out. I came to check on you,” Thomas said, keeping his voice low.

  Unsure if ’twas due to the fact that they’d almost made love, or embarrassed by how she’d all but asked for their intimacy, she blurted, “If he finds you in my chamber he will—”

  “Trust me.”

  However much she w
anted to, what if he was wrong? What if instead of the duke accepting Thomas’s explanation, his father became outraged and demanded…

  What?

  That he marry her?

  Her heart plummeted. God in heaven!

  However much she cared for Thomas, his being forced into a marriage wasna her wish. A foolish thought. As if a duke would demand his son wed the bastard daughter of his enemy?

  With methodical efficiency, she collected herself. At this moment the only thing she had left was her pride, and with her having lain naked with Thomas that was in tatters. Still, when she left Dair Castle, however damaged, at least she would have that.

  “Thomas, hide under the bed.” She damned the tremor in her voice.

  His mouth tightened. “I willna behave like a criminal in my home.”

  His home. Lost in his upset, he hadna realized what he’d said. Though his claim assured her that he’d begun to heal, it didna change the criticalness of this moment. “For me. Please.”

  “Trust me,” he repeated, his voice tight.

  “I want to, but ’tis too important.” She cursed the hurt on his face, pain she’d caused, except the words had been said. Given the stakes, nor would she take them back.

  Green eyes narrowed. “I willna hide like a coward, even for you.”

  Hurt by his charge, she shook her head. “Never did I intend for you to think that.”

  “Nay?” he said, his voice cool, “How was I to view it otherwise?”

  “Thomas?” his father said from outside.

  Eyes narrowed, he stepped back. “Come in, Father.”

  The duke entered. Confusion lined his brow as he halted within the entry and stared at Thomas. “Why are you here?”

  “Your Grace,” Alesone sputtered, “Thomas was—”

  “I couldna sleep and decided to take a walk. When I stepped into the corridor, I heard Mistress Alesone cry out from inside her chamber,” he said, his eyes holding hers with a flash of temper. “Worried for her safety, I rushed inside. Thankfully, she wasna in danger, but having a nightmare.”

  Warmth swept her cheeks at his simple explanation. Instead of trusting him to explain, she’d allowed her mind to create outrageous worries.

  The duke’s body relaxed. “After what you have endured, I am little surprised you had disturbing dreams.” He closed the door and walked over. “’Twould seem a night for unrest. Nor could I sleep. With the sun beginning to rise, I came to check on my son.”

  Stunned, she glanced toward the window, noted the swath of color staining the eastern sky. Caught up in their talk that’d spun to passion, she’d lost track of time.

  “When I discovered his chamber empty,” the duke continued, “and as I couldna find him elsewhere, as he is in your care, I thought mayhap you would know.”

  Her care. God in heaven. Thomas was recovering from serious injuries. Instead of dismissing his assurance that he was fine and insisting that he returned to his bed, she’d allowed him liberties. Allowed? Nay, wanted, and had thrilled at his every touch.

  “Your Grace, I am sorry to cause you any concern.” Neither did she wish to give any sense of impropriety. What had she been thinking?

  Alesone bit back a groan. With the way he’d touched her, kissed her, made her body come alive, there hadna been a lucid thought in her mind. She’d wanted him, and if they hadna been interrupted, would have given him her innocence.

  Irritated at herself, and with Thomas deservedly upset by her lack of trust, ’twas best if he went to his chamber. “I explained to your son, Your Grace, that I was fine and he could return to his bed. Except he insisted on staying until he felt that I had calmed.”

  Pride filled the noble’s gaze. “My son is a good man.”

  He was, one she didna deserve, a man she should have trusted moments before. Frustrated, she met Thomas’s gaze. “I thank you again for ensuring that I was safe.”

  “’Tis the least I can do after you have cared for me.” He gave a curt nod. “I will let you try to sleep.”

  The men exited, and the duke tugged the door closed behind them.

  Alesone collapsed on her bed, her body still trembling from his touch, and however wrong the intimacy, yearned for more.

  After his father had departed his chamber, Thomas’s thoughts shifted to Alesone. Her taste still teased him, that innate sweetness that lured him to go to her and complete what they’d begun. With how she’d responded to his touch, along with the urgency of her kisses, assured him if he went to her now, they could make love.

  Except when he’d asked, she hadna given him her trust. Frustrated, he began to pace to smother thoughts of her, but however much he tried, the image of her naked in his arms remained all too clear.

  With a curse, Thomas lay on his bed, tugged the blanket up, and closed his eyes. If his father hadna interrupted them, he would have taken her innocence. He stilled. What if she’d become pregnant?

  Blast it, so caught up in the moment, he hadna considered the ramifications of his actions. With her born a bastard, she’d endured a cold life, even shunned by those of her blood. Though fortunate that the healer had raised her with love, many an unwanted babe didna share the same fate. Nor would he allow such. If she grew round with child, he wouldna avoid his responsibility.

  He shifted to his side, frowned. Though he was drawn to her, he wasna seeking marriage. ’Twas best if he kept his distance, returned to the role of her protector, nae more. More, regardless of how much he cared for her, of how her body felt beneath his, she deserved a man without emotional scars.

  Thomas turned over, grimaced at the shot of pain, and forced his eyes closed. Except with thoughts of her tangling his mind, he doubted that he would find sleep.

  * * *

  Early morning sunlight streamed through the window, glistening on the ice clinging to the glass as Thomas pushed the tray of food aside. He swung his legs over the edge of his bed. After two days with naught but a few walks down the corridor, by God he wouldna spend another moment cloistered inside.

  Grimacing at his stiffness, he dragged on his garb, then glanced toward the closed door. The woman who’d brought him his meals had explained that Alesone was feeling poorly, but he knew the truth.

  Since the night they’d almost made love, she had avoided him. Mayhap he hadna planned on their intimacy, but neither would he apologize. She’d wanted him as well. He could still feel her hands caressing him, the softness of her mouth, and her hungry demands. His exhaustion had lowered his shields, otherwise he never would have touched her.

  Thomas muttered a curse. As if thinking about her and what they’d done helped this convoluted situation? Nor could he allow her avoidance to continue. When he explained naught could ever exist between them, then they could step back and continue as before. After he delivered her to Avalon, then he would leave.

  Except he’d miss her.

  With his fealty sworn to King Robert, and Scotland embroiled in civil war, however much his thoughts strayed to the unbidden, a relationship wasna a wise option to consider.

  Once Scotland was united, with his father having reinstated his title of Earl of Kincaid, then he could consider the idea of a woman in his life. As well, he would need a son to pass down Conchar Castle and title Earl of Kincaid.

  The image of Alesone round with his child whispered through his mind. He shoved to his feet. The lass deserved more than a man who in his youth had torn his family apart, and whose life as a warrior had let him see little but blood and carnage.

  However much he was drawn to her, she didna need a man emotionally damaged, but one who understood love.

  Love.

  Thomas grunted. Look at him mulling over such foolishness when ’twas duty he should focus on. The sooner he spoke with her and put this matter behind them the better.

  Damming his soreness and wishing they were en route to Avalon Castle, he walked to the door. The writ he’d sent to Bruce would explain their de
lay. Nor would the king be pleased to learn that the Duke of Westwyck had exposed his true allegiance.

  King Robert would understand that once Comyn received the news of the duke’s betrayal he would attack Dair Castle. The noble wouldna allow his daughter to escape. Without King Philip’s support, the Scot would fail in his attempt to defeat Bruce. Before her father and his troops reached Thomas’s home, Alesone needed to be far away. With the rate he was improving each day, he should be able to ride within a fortnight.

  After they reached Avalon and he explained the situation to Stephan MacQuistan, fellow Templar and now the Earl of Dunsmore, his friend would ensure she remained safe. Thomas held little doubt that with Stephan’s wife, Katherine, being woman of strong will, Alesone would find more than a safe haven at the island fortress, but an alley, and if she chose to accept their offer, friendship.

  Weary, he rubbed the back of his neck. ’Twas long past time for him to rejoin the Templars whom he’d traveled with to his sovereign’s encampment, knights who knew him, men he trusted, a life he understood.

  With his focus clear, Thomas exited his room and crossed to Alesone’s. He knocked.

  “Who is it?”

  At her lyrical voice, unwanted images of her naked body stormed his mind. Bedamned, he wasna here to seduce her. “Thomas.”

  Silence.

  God’s teeth! He shoved the door open, stepped inside, and shoved the door shut, refusing to allow his gaze to linger upon her curves. “We need to talk.”

  Nervous eyes held his as she stood paces away. “You must leave. ’Tis indecent for you to be alone with me in my chamber.”

  “Since you decided ’tis prudent to avoid me, I took matters into my own hands.” Thomas stepped closer.

  On a gasp she stumbled back. “What are you doing?”