The Bargain by Julia Templeton Page B

grateful that the question had come back to her in a rush.
    A clash of swords reverberated throughout the glen, reminding Aleysia where they were, and that they were far from alone. Renaud must have been jarred as well, for he abruptly released her, and took a step back, but not before brushing a stray hair out of her face, and over her ear. "Even your hair will not be tamed," he said, a soft smile on his lips.
    The touch surprised Aleysia, and she felt it all the way to her toes. Oh, how she desired him.
    "I shall see you tonight then." He grinned boyishly and to her horror, her heart gave a hard tug.
    "Tonight," she said, and grabbing up her basket, she rushed toward the castle.
     

CHAPTER 8
    Aleysia reached for the pouch of herbs in her pocket, her thumb brushing over the soft velvet bag. Already the great hall filled with men, women, and children, their voices rising to the wooden rafters. The smell of venison en frumenty and elderberry wine permeated the space, making her stomach rumble and her mouth water. If only she wasn't so nervous; but how could she not be? Tonight she would escape!
    She had arrived early for dinner, freshly bathed and wearing a gown made of fine linen and dyed a light green that flattered her coloring, or so the maid had said. She wondered if Renaud would notice.
    She did not want to do anything that would warrant suspicion. So much depended on the coming hours. She must, without fail, drug Renaud and his men. The best way to distract him from Adelstan and the journey to York was to show him that she had accepted her place in his bed. Since he had not touched her for days, she thought perhaps she could entice him tonight. They would make love, drink wine, and God willing, he would sleep like the dead.
    Once he fell asleep she would escape into the night. She had watched closely the routine of the past few nights, and knew that a servant made her way up the tower stairs to bring the guards a glass of warm wine shortly after supper. Tonight, Aleysia would make sure she would be passing the servant, and offer to take the wine herself.
    And she would pour the draught into the drink, stirring it so the bitterness would be hidden, before delivering it to the guards. She would wear a cloak, hoping to hide her identity. If the healer was true to her word, then the guards would soon be fast asleep. And shortly after, Aleysia would give the wine to Renaud in his bedchamber. God willing, they would all sleep soundly for hours.
    At least that was the plan.
    The voices quieted, and Aleysia looked up to find Renaud entering the hall. His hair was damp, no doubt from the bath she had requested he take. Aleysia's heart skipped a beat and she shifted on the bench. His gray tunic matched his eyes but conflicted fiercely with his dark hair and skin, and the black braies clung to his powerful thighs.
    With a start, Aleysia noticed the woman on Renaud's arm, and felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.
    The woman, a statuesque brunette with large breasts and womanly curves smiled up at Renaud. Her gown, made of exquisite blue silk and covered by a lighter blue gauze, floated as she walked, the material not at all disguising her long, slender legs. Wide sleeves embroidered in silver matched the silver in the girdle that rode low on her curvaceous hips.
    Aleysia, though dressed in her finest gown, complete with leather girdle, felt quite plain in comparison to the other woman's cool beauty. Then a horrible thought struck her, making her even more ill at ease. Dear God, was the woman Renaud's betrothed? The familiarity between the two was obvious. Even now Renaud laughed at something she said, and the woman actually went so far as to playfully rest her head against Renaud's shoulder.
    Something resembling jealousy rushed through Aleysia, and she sat up straighter. What in the world was wrong with her? Why should she care if this woman was Renaud's betrothed? If anything, she should feel relieved.
    Because you