back a step and her hopes sank—until he leaned toward her and his lips finished the short journey to hers. Though briefer than before, this kiss was just as sweet, just as firm, just as stupefying.
She broke from him and placed a restraining hand on his chest, pushing him away. Her hand jumped from the heat that almost scorched her palm.
He stepped away and met her eyes with a hungry glance. “With your leave, my lady, I must attend the king. Adieu , until eventide.” After a deep courtly bow, he strode quickly down the corridor. When he reached the corner, he gazed back at her, a small triumphant smile on his lips.
Then he disappeared, and she turned to the princess’s door, bubbling with the many excitements stirred by Geoffrey Longford.
* * * *
Geoffrey rushed down the hallway and quietly slipped into the king’s audience chamber. Small knots of courtiers were scattered about the room, enthusiastically discussing the joust. He sighted Thomas, and unobtrusively made his way to his friend who stood listening attentively on the far side of the room.
“News, Thomas?” he asked, standing behind him to better see King Edward and the nobles he was talking to with such animation.
With a brief lift of his chin, Thomas gave a wan acknowledgement of Geoffrey’s presence and spoke low, over his shoulder. “You have missed naught. They are still deciding the order of the procession for Tuesday. You are fortunate you will be consigned to the end, else you might have been missed ere now.” Thomas glanced back at Geoffrey with a contemptuous look. “Another assignation with the little de Courcy? You really must find some other diversions, Geoffrey, lest your conversation become offensive in its monotony.”
Geoffrey leaned back against the cool stone wall adjacent to one of the few windows in the chamber. He crossed his arms easily over his chest, hardly able to contain his amusement. “Jealous, Thomas?”
His friend turned to him, incredulous. “Will you mock me to my face, sir?”
“Only if I cannot do so behind your back.”
“You did not take offense at that, Geoffrey. ’Twas said in jest only.”
“True,” he acknowledged. “But you have since protested an aversion to my betrothed. Overmuch so, mayhap.” His manner was light but not his tone.
Thomas sighed. “Be easy, Geoffrey. I make no designs on the fair Alyse. I would not serve you that way. I simply chafe at a good companion lost, ’tis all.”
“Lost? How lost, Thomas? We are together much as we have always been. I grant I have busied myself with Lady Alyse these last few days, but when we are married life will settle down again.”
“Aye, you may think that, but I hold no such illusions. Will you leave your young bride to go out drinking and carousing with Patrick, Robert and me? You are more taken with this woman than any other I have seen and you have not even bedded her yet.” Thomas’s lazy smile spoke of his amusement. “Although mayhap that experience will drive you back to the likes of us.” Geoffrey’s sudden scowl drew a laugh from his companion. “Again, I mean no offense to your betrothed. Only that when the mystery is gone, the passion may leave as well. I can attest to that myself.”
He grunted in acknowledgement; Thomas seldom tarried in one bed overlong.
“You must admit you seem overly protective of this maid.” Thomas’s words probed unmercifully, and he squirmed, the rough fieldstone scraping his tunic. “If I spoke of another man, I might even call him besotted.”
Geoffrey opened his mouth to protest but closed it without a sound at his friend’s unflinching stare.
He speaks truth . The girl has bewitched me, for my thoughts all stray toward her, no matter what the topic of conversation.
He sighed. “Good Lord!”
Thomas laughed and clapped his friend on the back. “’Tis not your fault, Geoffrey. The day of reckoning comes to us all.”
“Then why has it not come to you?” Thomas held the
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