My Lord's Desire. Margaret Moore
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not yours.”
“I may not be a knight,” Adelaide returned, “but I have no wish to allow men to overthrow the kingdom by murder, especially of those two fine men.”
“No, it’s too dangerous,” Armand persisted. “It’s my duty to protect women, too, not put them in harm’s way. I will not allow you to involve yourself in this.”
“It may have escaped your notice, my lord,” she retorted, getting angrier and more impatient by the moment, “but I’m already involved in this. As for danger, every time I’m away from my chamber, every minute I spend at court, I’m in danger of one sort or another. How easy would you find it, I wonder, to tiptoe around John’s desire or that of other men, seeking never to enflame their lust, yet knowing to reject them outright could be more dangerous than facing a lance charge?”
Armand’s brow contracted as he considered her words, and she was prepared to argue more. Men wanted to believe that without them, women were weak and helpless, and almost useless, too, except to bear children. She did not agree, and she wasn’t going to let him dismiss her.
But instead of arguing, he nodded. “Very well. We’ll both go to the king.”
“We can’t,” she said as another possible explanation for the scheme came to her. “John might be involved.”
Armand looked at her as if she were demented.
That wasn’t going to dissuade her, either. “John hates being told what to do, or listening to advice, even if it’s sound. He heeds the Earl of Pembroke because he knows Marshal would sooner die than be disloyal. He respects the archbishop more than most clergymen, but that isn’t saying much. If those two men are dead, he’ll be free of the two people whose counsel he feels most compelled to heed. In his mind, he might finally be free.”
Armand ran a hand through his long hair and a scowl darkened his features. “God’s blood, I can believe it. Perhaps you’re right and we shouldn’t go to John until we know more about this plot. But in the meantime, I must warn Marshal. Randall has many friends among the clergy. He can send word to the archbishop.”
Adelaide saw a danger in this plan, too. “We should alert Marshal and Hubert, but only if you can do so without arousing suspicion or telling anyone else what we’ve heard. I realize Randall’s your friend and I’m sure he’s a trustworthy fellow, but the fewer who know of the conspiracy, the better. Men who seek to achieve their ends by murder won’t hesitate to kill anyone who threatens their plans.”
She waited for Armand to protest that he knew best.
“Very well. I’ll get word to the archbishop myself.”
Relieved that he wasn’t going to argue, she said, “While I talk to any of the courtiers I don’t know well and try to discover who we heard.”
Again she waited for him to protest, but again he didn’t. “As you’re doing that, I’ll try to find out if anyone’s leaving Ludgershall today. I have some friends among the guards I can ask.”
“Good,” Adelaide replied, pleased and still somewhat surprised that he was so agreeable. “Now we must think of a way to meet and share what we’ve learned.”
Lady Jane came bustling down the path toward them, her head bowed in thought.
Armand de Boisbaston abruptly tugged Adelaide into his arms.
And kissed her.
CHAPTER FIVE
ADELAIDE was too shocked to resist as he held her in his warrior’s arms and his lips moved over hers with confidence, as well as desire. His embrace set her blood alight with excitement and powerful longing. Other men had tried to kiss her, and their fumbling, clumsy attempts had been repellent. But this…this was as different as the sun from the moon, night from day. This was…delightful. Exciting. Wonderful.
She wrapped her arms around him, instinctively returning his kiss with equal fervor—until she heard Lady Jane’s gasp, followed by the swish of a woman’s skirts and her swiftly retreating footsteps.
Appalled by her own shameful conduct, as well as his, Adelaide pushed Armand away. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Kissing you,” he replied with aggravating calm. “If people think I’m wooing you, no one will wonder if we want to be alone.”
He made it sound as if he’d done nothing very much at all, although he most certainly had. “Did you give any thought at all to my reputation when you came up with that astonishing plan?”
“In truth, my lady, no,” he said, and he still did not look sorry. “I was thinking I needed a way to be alone with you, just as you said, and that way came to mind.” He had the gall to smile. “Was it as terrible as all that?”
“Yes,” she hissed. “How dare you do such a thing? How could you put me in such a position? For months I’ve walked a narrow path among the men of this court, and then you come here and in one day destroy my reputation.”
“Not destroyed, surely,” he protested. “After all, it was just a kiss.”
“Just a kiss to you, perhaps, but it’s different for a woman, as you should know.” She straightened her slightly askew cap. “I take it you aren’t often at court, or you’d appreciate how even the most innocent encounter can soon be exaggerated by gossip and rumor.”
All trace of appeasement disappeared from his features. “You aren’t the only one who’ll pay a price, my lady. I came here to find a wealthy bride. I can’t do that if the court believes I’m in hot pursuit of you.”
“If your hasty act has thwarted your plans, you have only yourself to blame,” she replied. “You should have considered the ramifications of your actions before you kissed me.”
“Well, I didn’t—and it’s too late now. We’re both just going to have to make the best of this.”
“Easy enough for you to say,” she charged, shoving her hands into the long cuffs of her gown. “You’re not a woman whose life can be ruined by rumor and gossip.”
“I’ve had to deal with rumor and gossip since I surrendered Marchant,” he replied, his left hand gripping the hilt of his sword. “And shouldn’t our own lives be of little consequence when the peace of the kingdom’s at stake? The important thing is to find out who’s planning to murder the archbishop and the earl, not to protect our reputations.”
He had her there, and because he did, she had little choice but to agree to the role he had assigned her.
“I don’t want a rebellion any more than you do,” she snapped with frustration and anger. “Therefore I shall go along with your plan until we can discover the identity of the conspirators—but only until then.”
With that, she turned on her heel and marched out of the garden.
THAT NIGHT, after the tables had been cleared and taken down so that the courtiers could dance, Armand took another drink of wine and watched Lady Adelaide clap hands with a dark, bearded knight. She’d already danced with three other men. Apparently her attempt to find the conspirators involved flirting with every single male at court.
God help him, what had possessed him to kiss her? It had been a stupid, impulsive decision—if one could consider giving in to his overwhelming desire a decision.
His explanation had come after, although that hadn’t been totally impromptu. He had been thinking of ways a man and a woman could be seen talking together, and wooing came to mind. Then he’d noticed Lady Jane.
“What’s the matter?” Randall inquired solicitously. “Is your knee troubling you?”
Armand stopped watching the vivacious, beautiful Adelaide who kissed with such heart-stopping passion, and turned to his companion. “Yes,” he replied, for