For Love of the Earl by Jessie Clever Page A

enjoyed being wedded to a shrew like me."
    Alec took offense at that.  
    "How do you know how I feel?   And I believe we have already concluded that I do not think you a shrew."  
    Sarah blinked at him, her eyes vacant as if she were absorbing everything and letting nothing back out in return.  
    "What was your favorite thing to do as a child?" she asked, avoiding his question.
    Alec lay back down, taking the opportunity to move just a little bit closer to Sarah.  
    "My favorite thing to do as a child was to follow Nathan around," he said, referring to his older brother.
    Sarah did not say anything right away, and when she did, she was hesitant.
    "What was it like?" she asked, "Growing up with Nathan being a..."
    "Bastard?" Alec supplied, turning his head on the pillow.
    Sarah looked at him and nodded.
    "Yes, a...bastard."
    Alec shrugged.  
    "I don't know.   Nathan was just Nathan.   It was not as if I knew then difference when I was eight and just wanted him to teach me how to catch trout from the streams."
    Alec looked back at the ceiling, casting his memory back on his boyhood.
    "Nathan had always been there.   There was never a time when I didn't have a big brother, so I never really thought about him as being anything other than that.   My big brother."   He scratched the back of his neck where the rough fabric of the pillow irritated his skin.   "But I suppose it was rather odd that Nathan could not go to things that I could."  
    "Things?"  
    Alec shrugged.  
    "You know, like picnics and races and country parties, and-" he stopped so abruptly he nearly swallowed his tongue.   He looked at Sarah from the corner of his eye, but she seemed to be merely looking at the same boards he had been.   "You know, things such as that."  
    Sarah nodded but did not offer further input.   Alec nudged her with his elbow.  
    "What about you?   How did you survive the dodgy halls of St. Mary's?   I've heard a thing or two about the young Sarah Beckham.   Care to share a tale or three with me?"  
    Sarah looked at him briefly before returning her gaze to the ceiling.  
    "No, I would not," she said flatly.
    Alec was not deterred.  
    "All right, how about I share one then?   As you so graciously shared the tales you had heard of me, it would be remiss of me as a gentleman not to reciprocate."
    Sarah swung her gaze back him.  
    "Whatever do you mean?"  
    "Did you really release a flock of hens into the nuns' cloister during prayer?"  
    Sarah sat up nearly hitting her head on the ceiling.   She turned to him, her nostrils flaring.  
    "Who told you that?" she asked, her voice even and strong.  
    Alec smiled.  
    "It's classified.   And how about the poor priest?   What was his name?   Something saintly like Timothy James or James Timothy or some such thing.   Did you cut off the back side of his robes while he delivered the homily at mass one day?"
    Sarah's mouth dropped open.  
    "I wouldn't have suspected you of wanting to see a clergyman's freckled white arse, but there are things about each of us that the other never really expects, true?"  
    Sarah's mouth snapped shut.  
    "It wasn't freckled," she said and lay back against the bunk.
    Alec smiled at the ceiling and put his arm behind his head.   It was at that precise moment that the boat took a sudden dip, and Sarah rolled against him.   He moved quickly, capturing her back in his arms.   She did not fight him, and it surprised him.   She simply lay against him, her head resuming its place on his chest.
    Alec's hand traced lazy circles on her back, enjoying the feeling of warmth that spread from her body into his fingertips.   They were silent then, and Alec felt Sarah breath in and out.   It was possibly the most comforting sensation Alec knew.   His hand moved against her back before settling along the curve of her hip.   He held it there, feeling the draw of her breath.
    "Alec?" she asked, and he thought of how fragile her voice