Novels 03 The Wise Woman Read online

  Alys pulled at her hair mercilessly and coiled it into a rough plait. “Badly?” she asked.

  Morach cocked an eyebrow at her. “Sure you want to hear?” she asked.

  Alys nodded.

  “He had her this afternoon,” Morach said. “After he had been with his father. You were still in the old lord’s chambers. He came striding down here and shooed all the women out of the room and he took her like he was possessed. If this is your magic moppets then they’ve done their job well. He can’t leave her alone. First this afternoon and then tonight again.”

  Alys’s face was shocked. “How were they together? Was he as rough with her as ever? He was never tender with her?”

  Morach shook her head. “He didn’t bind her this time,” she said. “But he did everything else he had a mind to do. He slapped her a little and he pulled her hair. Then he made her take him in her mouth. He’s careful for the child so he would not lie on her. He thrust himself into her mouth and bellowed like a bull with pleasure.”

  “Stop it,” Alys said abruptly. “You’re disgusting, Morach. How d’you know all this? You’re lying.”

  “I watched,” Morach said, smiling, tucking the fine shawl around her shoulders and moving the pillow behind her tousled head. “I needed to know. Of course I watched.”

  Alys nodded. Nothing Morach could do would surprise her.

  “And what about her?” Alys said abruptly. “Why does she permit it? Now that she has his child. Why is she still so demanding?”

  Morach chuckled. “She’s not demanding—you silly little virgin!” she exclaimed. “What should she demand? She’s getting everything a woman could want—and more than a decent woman would admit to wanting. She lies there, like a pink soft mountain, and lets him crawl all over her.”

  Alys scowled. “He said he would go to her no more once she was pregnant,” she said. “He said he had to have a son, and then he would come to me. Then he said he would go to Newcastle to think what to do—that he longed to live with me and yet he had to keep her sweet. All this time I have been waiting and waiting. All this time, Morach! Waiting and waiting for him.”

  Morach looked at her without sympathy. “Go to him then,” she said. “You cannot fight her whelping heat with your convent coldness. Go to him and tell him that you want him, and that he’s to leave her. Hex him, promise him darkness and passion. Pain beyond pain and pleasure beyond pleasure. There are things you could give him, there are things you could do, that he has never even dreamed of with his little drabs. Tell him you’re a witch and that if he comes to you you can give him pleasures that mortal men only dream of. He’s like any man—they all long for witchery and wickedness at night. If you want him, Alys, take him! You don’t have much time, you know.”

  “Time?” Alys asked instantly. “You’ve foreseen something, Morach?”

  “Away.” Morach flapped her hands, fending Alys off. “You’ve not much time when you’re young and beautiful. The plague could come any day and mark your face. The wind could blow and scar you. You could fall sick and lose the clear color of your skin and your eyes and hair. You’re getting thinner every day with this passion burning up inside you—a month from now and you’ll be a plain spinster. If you want something you should get it at once. Waiting is a trial for no one but yourself.”

  Alys nodded. “I am on a rack of desire for him,” she said softly.

  “Shall I tell him?” Morach asked. “I’m the last person to leave them at night. I could take him to one side and tell him that if he leaves Catherine’s room he can come here. And I’ll keep guard till the two of you are done.”

  Alys turned toward the bed and looked at the old woman. Her face was suspicious. “Why?” she asked. “Why would you risk offending Lady Catherine—you who stand so high in her favor, paid twice what the rest get, free to come and go, eating like a pig and free to speak your mind to her? Why risk it?”

  Morach chuckled. “It’s a game, child,” she said indulgently. “It’s like casting the runes, or reading the cards, or making herbs. It’s a game. What will happen next? All magic is the question—what will happen if…? I want to know what will happen to you when Hugo has you. I want to see that happen. It takes my fancy, that’s all.”

  “Can’t you see it?” Alys asked. “Why can’t you see the future as you used to see it, Morach?”

  The old woman shrugged. “I can see you don’t have long; that should be enough for you. When I look, it all goes dark, I can see nothing except darkness and water. So you’d best act as any woman would—never mind the Sight. What will it be? Shall I tell him you want to see him?”

  Alys paused. “Yes,” she said, with sudden decision. “Now. Call him out now. Get him away from Catherine now. I can’t bear him to lie with her tonight.”

  The old woman nodded and slipped from the bed, spread the shawl around her shoulders and crept through the door. Alys took up the mirror again, ruffled her hand through her thick hair, watched the color rise in her pale cheeks. Across the gallery she could hear Morach’s peremptory knock on the door and her call: “Lord Hugo! The old lord is asking for you. He said you were to come at once!”

  She heard Hugo’s muttered oath and his quick step to the door. She heard him call to Catherine, telling her to sleep, and then the bedroom door slam behind him. He stepped out into the gallery.

  Alys tossed aside the mirror and went out of her room to meet him.

  “Lord Hugh does not need you. I sent Morach to call you out,” she said. She held her head very high and her hair fell in a ripple of gold away from her face. Hugo stared at her, at the thin cotton of her nightgown and at the rapid pulse beating at the hollow of her neck under the half-open gown.

  “Alys,” he said softly.

  He could see the muscles in her neck move as she swallowed.

  “I cannot bear you to lie with her,” Alys said. “You told me to wait until you came back from Newcastle and I have waited. I want you as my lover. I have dreamed and dreamed of you coming home to me.”

  Hugo’s dark gleam of a smile came, and faded. “You heard my father,” he said. “You know how much I need an heir. You know that my future and my family’s future depends on an heir to this castle and these lands. And he has promised me that money, Alys. I cannot distress Catherine when she is carrying the child I need more than anything else in the world!”

  “What about me!” Alys broke out. “I see what Catherine needs—aye, and gets! And I see what you need! But what about me?”

  Hugo looked at her, his smile crinkling around his eyes. “You want me,” he said. It was not a question.

  Alys nodded.

  “Is Morach gone from your room?” he asked.

  Alys did not look up; she nodded again.

  “Come then,” he said and slid his arm around her waist, and she let him lead her to her bedroom, swing her off her feet and lay her on the bed.

  He pulled up her gown to see her naked and gave a little grunt of pleasure at the sight—like an animal, Alys thought. She closed her eyes and thought of the nights and days she had longed for him, had longed for this moment.

  “This is Hugo,” she said to herself. “Hugo, that I have dreamed of and longed for, and desired more than I have ever desired anyone in my life.”

  It did not help. She felt cold and arid. She was nervous of the pain and the weight of him.

  Hugo hitched his nightshirt up around his waist. “If you were a witch indeed then you would enchant me,” he said. “They were talking of witchery in Newcastle. They say if a man so much as touches their skin then no other woman can ever excite him again.”

  Alys shook her head. “I’m no witch,” she said. “You told me to put all that aside, I did as you bid me. I cannot enchant you.” She was getting cold, half naked before him.

  Hugo dropped on top of her and Alys was crushed beneath his weight. He had eaten spicy meat at supper and his breath was sour. She threw her arms around his broad shoulders and said, “Hugo,” thinki