Heart's Magic Read Online Free PDF Page A

was unmistakable.
    Mirielle picked up the herb basket and left
the room. She heard Brice slide the bolt home behind her. She did
not doubt what would now occur in Alda’s room.
    She must not think of it. She had tried to
talk to Brice when she first became aware of the true nature of his
relationship to Alda. Out of gratitude and family affection she had
tried to warn him, but he would not listen to her. He had assured
her that he knew exactly what he was doing. With a sigh, Mirielle
headed for the great hall, Minn once more trotting silently beside
her.
    “You are late, Brice.” Scarcely bothering to
wait until Mirielle was gone and the door closed, Alda let the
towel fall to the floor. “I expected you to join me in my
bath.”
    “I do have other occupations.” Brice stood
calmly looking Alda over as if he were contemplating the purchase
of a horse. She posed for him seductively, but he made no move to
embrace her.
    “This is your most important occupation at
Wroxley.” Alda flung her arms around his neck and, when Brice did
not readily lower his mouth to hers, she pulled on his neck,
forcing his head downward. “You are to keep me happy.”
    “An impossible task.”
    “If you are too weary after fulfilling your
duties to Wroxley to spend time with me, perhaps I will find a
younger, more vigorous lover and make him seneschal in your
place.”
    “I am seneschal here by King Henry’s
appointment,” Brice reminded her. “You cannot alter the king’s
command.”
    “Then I shall have to encourage you to
greater efforts on my behalf.” Taking her hands from around his
neck, Alda applied them to a different part of his body.
    Brice stood quietly, letting her fondle him,
knowing his flesh would respond to what she was doing. It always
did. He had loved Alda once. He still admired her strangely
unchanged beauty. He might even marry her if it could be proven
that her long-absent husband was dead. But only if marrying Alda
meant that Wroxley Castle would be his, at least for a time, and
that the rich estate she had brought as a dowry to her marriage to
Gavin of Wroxley would become her second husband’s permanent
property.
    Alda had a son, Warrick, who was Lord Udo’s
grandson and therefore the next heir to Wroxley if Gavin was dead.
Warrick was much too young to hold an important castle in a
dangerous area of England. However, a seneschal who had proven
himself reliable and loyal to King Henry, a seneschal who was also
the boy’s stepfather—surely that man would not be removed from his
post? And in the years before Warrick reached an age to take
control of Wroxley there would be ample opportunity for a clever
seneschal to amass a fortune. Brice already had a small, secret
hoard of silver plate and jewels.
    Alda lifted his tunic and loosened his lower
garments. Her fingers worked skillfully on his exposed manhood. She
was an avid lover. She knew how to drain him like a sponge squeezed
dry. For the sake of the physical pleasure she gave him and for
control of Wroxley, he could afford to ignore her uncertain temper
and the black emptiness that lurked behind Alda’s lovely,
golden-brown eyes.
    “Easy,” he said, removing her hand. “My
beautiful lady, if you want me to give you pleasure and not just
take my own, then you must leave me some control of my body.”
    “Brice,” she panted, wrapping herself around
him, pushing her hot, moist womanhood against the hardness she had
created, “hold me. Kiss me and touch me all over. Make me
forget.”
    “If adultery troubles you so much,” Brice
said coolly, “perhaps you ought not to commit it.”
    “Not that. What does Gavin matter? He has
been gone so long that I scarcely remember how it felt to have him
inside me. I am sure I was bored by his lovemaking. But you are so
strong, Brice, so vigorous.” Alda writhed against him, moaning.
    Her contortions were having their effect.
Brice could feel his blood rising. He caught her by her long,
golden hair, bending