Free By Right of Arms by Robyn Carr Page B

could he not have been brought by her father when she was a girl, before she had committed so many years of loyalty to France and Giles? Hyatt was her lover now, and her body had taken him if her mind had not. Yet she was the vanquished, the prisoner, the captive. Why? Why?
    “Let me in, Aurélie.”
    She opened her mouth to speak, but he would not have her oaths, denials, or insults. He covered her parted lips with his in a searing, hungry kiss that devoured her. He pulled her hips to meet his and with a deep, humiliating moan of resignation, she parted her legs to take him in. Within moments she clung to him, answering his thrusts with her own. Like a rising river, she felt the tide of rapture building and a glimmer of what lay ahead was relayed in this man’s arms. A glow flushed her skin; a deep quivering forced her to answer his kisses and meet his thrusting hips.
    He clasped her tightly to him and that which had escaped her on the night before filled her with astonishment now. The molten heat of his pleasure filled her. He moaned weakly, his muscles taut and trembling.
    His lips touched her cheek, his glowing eyes looking deeply into hers. “It will come in time, Aurélie. In a little while you will share my joy. When you let yourself.”
    He left her to dress himself and she turned over and sobbed into the pillow. Her tears were wrenching and painful and she was thankful that he did not mock her. Finally, his hand was on her shoulder. “Rise, Aurélie. Enough of that.”
    She turned to look at him. He was fully dressed and just strapping a knife to his belt. Tears ran unheeded down her cheeks and her hair was a tangled mass that fell in a torrent over her shoulders and around her face.
    “I’m afraid that I cannot allow you to indulge your self-pity any longer. This hall has been too long without the consolation of the lady. Your people, your soldiers yet in their bonds, need you now. You will have to endure better than this, if not for yourself, then for them, my lady.” He held out a hand to help her from the bed.
    She shook her head. Her whisper was soft and strained. “How am I to rise and go about my duties? As simply as that?”
    “They have had losses as well, madame. We all have.”
    “You?” she questioned, giving a short laugh.
    The anger glittered in his dark eyes. “Yea!” he snapped like the crack of a whip. “I do not bemoan my losses, nor weep as you are wont to do. I lost good men in the battle. I am set to the task of informing my son’s mother that I am wed and bound by my own honor to act the husband to you. She has undoubtedly hoped that my conscience, if nothing else, would move me to marry her and give the boy a legitimate name. And, above all that, you seem to expect me to coddle you, when you should rise to ease the plight of the vanquished here.”
    “If I attempt to mend their bodies and hearts on your behalf, they will call me traitor.”
    “You are strong enough to take a blade to my back,” he protested loudly. “You are brave enough to insult your captor, to bury your dead, to stand witness to the harsh blade of my justice. Where is your courage now? Can you not counsel these castlefolk on wisdom to save their hides because of what they may
call
you? They are conquered. If they do not bend, they will die.”
    He walked toward the door, turning back to her. “I have no more time for your selfish whims. Lavergne promised you were worthy of the task; he said you were both strong and wise. I tire of pleading my case to you.”
    “Oh Hyatt, why?” she questioned with a sob. “Why could we not be of at least the same army?”
    He stood silent for a long moment, staring at her. “All in good time, my lady,” he said quietly.
    Aurélie sniffed back her tears and sat upright in the bed, clutching the pelts over her bosom. “Milord, will you send Perrine and my maid, Baptiste, to me? I should like to present a better appearance to my people.”
    “Baptiste? Is she the