Free The Bargain by Julia Templeton

passed by, the candle fluttering, casting shadows upon the stone walls.
    He nodded and entered the warm chamber where a fire blazed in the hearth. He closed the door behind him and looked to the bed where Aleysia lay.
    Wearing only a fine linen chemise, she lay on top of the furs, her back to him. He could sense her sadness and her anger by her rigid posture.
    He had never been good at comforting... having himself never sought his mother's touch for any ache or pain. Always the task felt awkward and unnatural, yet now he felt compelled to ease Aleysia's ache somehow. If only he knew how. Trying to think of something to say, he sat on the edge of the bed and reached out to her, his hand settling on her hip.
    She froze at his touch, but did not pull away. He could feel her skin beneath the sheer material—and his body responded, his cock hardening.
    "What did he say?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. He could hear the pain in that question and it tugged at his heart.
    How easy it would be to tell her that her loyal betrothed had not wanted Adelstan at all. That he had seen the jealousy in the Scot's eyes, toward a twin who had taken excellent care of his sister, keeping her out of harm's way for all these years, when he could so easily have used her as a pawn. But he could not hurt her again. She had suffered enough with the news of Adelstan's being summoned to York. "He asked for you, but I refused."
    Regret filled every inch of him. If only she were not Saxon, and her brother had not killed de Pirou. How could he take her brother, her only living family member, to certain death? If he were honest with himself, he would admit that he admired the young Saxon, who had taken a fief back from the devious de Pirou. Renaud would have done likewise if his parents had been killed. Aye, it was a shame Adelstan was Saxon, for Renaud would be honored to have such a knight in his ranks. As it was, he could not trust the young, clever man. The boy was simply too dangerous.
    Plus, King William expected Adelstan at York by month's end. Renaud's mind raced, knowing William would not show the Saxon mercy. Mayhap if Renaud convinced the king that Adelstan could, with proper training, become a trusted vassal and a fearless knight? Yet would Adelstan agree to such a life?
    More important—would William allow such leniency, especially given the extremity of the crime?
    In his heart he knew the answer.
    Already the heads of Saxon leaders sat atop pikes along York Castle, a message to all that King William was in England to stay. "What else did he say?"
    Renaud shook away the gruesome image of the pikes on the battlements at York. "He asked only for your release."
    She rolled over, her gaze locking with his. Her eyes were reddened and puffy from crying. "And what of Adelstan?" Her voice broke.
    How lovely she was. Amazingly beautiful, fiercely loyal. She was the kind of woman a man would kill to protect. A woman he would protect. Oddly enough, he had not been swayed by the coin MacMillan had offered. Many in his place would have taken it and offered the fortune to William in order to gain favor, but Renaud had not been tempted in the least.
    Her eyes narrowed as he continued to stare, reminding him that she had asked him a question and awaited his answer.
    Not wanting her to hurt more than she did already, he nodded. "Him, too."
    Tears pooled in her eyes, and when she blinked, they slid down her cheek, onto the sheer material of the chemise.
    He lifted her chin with his fingers, brushing away the tear with his thumb, but she jerked away. "Aleysia, you know if I could change this, I would."
    Her eyes searched his, and with a moan of despair she turned away, onto her side, lifting her knees toward her chest, her sobs wracking her body.
    A stab of guilt pierced him as he helplessly watched her. He had done this. Made this beautiful creature cry. And she had suffered so much already. The death of her parents, the loss of her home—and