then went on, ‘even John told me to come to you.’
‘Had you been free now, I could have made you my queen.’ He stroked her belly almost absent-mindedly, resting his finger thoughtfully on the trinket he had pushed into her navel. ‘Queen Eleyne. You would give me sons, lass, wouldn’t you? Bonny, strong, healthy sons.’ He leaned down and kissed her lips fiercely.
‘I would give you anything.’ She smiled up from beneath her lids. Everything was what she meant, everything.
Neither of them reacted immediately to the knock on the door, then abruptly the king rose. ‘Wait,’ he shouted as he adjusted his gown, pulling the heavy folds straight. Eleyne lay still at his feet, half smiling as the firelight played across her body. The king laughed. ‘Up you get, lass, or I’ll be asking my clerks to step across you to write my letters.’
She narrowed her eyes. ‘Would they enjoy that, do you think?’
‘No doubt, but I would not.’ He stooped, picked up her gown and tossed it over her. ‘Hurry, there is much to be done and you are distracting me shamefully.’ His voice was stern but his eyes, she checked quickly, were still laughing. She scrambled to her feet and pulled her clothes on, dropping the jewels one by one back into the casket. Her body was languid; contented. For the first time in her life she felt complete.
XIX
Robert found the casket of jewels that same afternoon, concealed in one of her coffers. He picked it up and opened it, pawing over the gems. Then he turned to her. ‘Where did you get these?’ His face was sharp with suspicion.
‘They were bequeathed to me by my aunt.’ She took the box from his hand and put it down on the table next to her mirror.
‘So many?’
‘She loved me and she had no children of her own.’ She was hugging the memory of the king’s lovemaking to her, conscious of the feel and smell of him still on her body.
Robert, suspicious, sensed the change in her. ‘Where did you get them?’
‘From the king.’ She met his gaze with wide-open challenging eyes. ‘And in case you are thinking of selling any of them they are all listed and recorded.’
‘Part of the Scottish inheritance, no doubt,’ he said softly. His gaze sharpened. ‘Your gown is torn.’
‘Is it?’ Without thinking she put her hand to her throat.
He smiled. ‘Your lover perhaps? Too eager, was he?’ He was not serious. He was taunting her as usual; even so she felt her colour rise.
‘You talk nonsense.’ She turned from him, but he caught her arm.
‘I may talk nonsense, wife, but you will take heed of what I say,’ he said quietly. ‘I think you should change your gown before supper, then perhaps you can wear some of your newly won finery.’
‘I will change when Nesta comes up.’ She stepped away warily.
‘You will change now.’ Without fully realising it, he could smell the sex on her; it excited him and he felt himself growing hard. She was beautiful and proud, not bothering to hide the disdain she felt, so her subjugation would be all the more enjoyable. He wanted her on her knees, taking him in her mouth, her fury and humiliation burning in her eyes. And here he could force her to do it – she was far away from King Henry; her threats to tell him would mean nothing. She was in his power and he could do what he liked with her.
He turned the heavy iron key in the lock.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I
‘We are going to Falkland.’ Robert stood in front of his wife, hands on hips. ‘As the guests of the Earl of Fife.’
‘No.’ Eleyne shook her head. ‘That’s not possible; the king would not allow it.’
‘Because he is so fond of your company?’ His voice dropped, heavy with sarcasm. ‘Do you think I don’t know what is going on? Do you think anyone in the castle doesn’t know? You behave like a strumpet, you flaunt yourself when you’re near him – ’
‘That’s not true!’ Her moment of panic had vanished. In its place came the cloak of frozen dislike which cocooned her whenever her husband came near her. ‘How can you say such a thing when my aunt is scarcely cold in her grave?’
‘Exactly, your aunt. I am sure the king, your uncle,’ he emphasised the word carefully, ‘will give us leave to go to Falkland.’
‘I think you must go.’ Alexander put his hand gently to her face. ‘He is right, people are noticing. How could they not when I follow you around like an adoring puppy, fawning in your lap?’ The firelight played softly over their skin, softening and blurring the shadows over the curves and angles of their bodies as they lay in one another’s arms on a pile of furs before the fire. ‘Besides, I neglect my kingdom shamefully.’
‘But I can’t leave you…’
‘You must, just for a while.’ He raised himself on his elbow and pulled her face towards his, kissing her fiercely. ‘Do you think I want you to leave me? Do you think I can bear the thought of you in your husband’s bed when you should be in mine?’
He ran his hands down her body, tasting, devouring her flesh as she lay quivering beneath him, her thighs parting slackly at the command of his questing fingers. It was several minutes before she could speak again.
‘You could send him back to England – ’
‘Aye,’ he smiled. ‘Maybe I’ll do that. Send him on his way and volunteer to take care of you myself.’
‘Then I needn’t go to Falkland?’ She arched her back, throwing back her head so her hair trailed across the furs in a gesture of abandoned sensuality. ‘I needn’t see Lord Fife again?’
The king raised his head, his eyes narrowed. ‘You are not still afraid of Lord Fife?’
She could not explain the strange dread she felt whenever the man came near her. ‘Not as long as I have your protection.’
‘Sweet Eleyne, you have my protection – and he knows it. And,’ his voice became stern, ‘while you are at Falkland you will have your husband’s as well.’
II
