The Captive Heart by Bertrice Small Page A

have her own wealth for emergencies,” Alexander Givet had told his only child. “Sew these coins into the hems of your gowns and your cloak. And tell no one, my daughter.”
    Alix had followed his instructions, sewing at night in her chamber when she was alone. There had been eight gold coins and almost twenty of silver. She had put two gold and five silver pieces into each of her two jersey gowns. The remaining four gold and ten silver coins she had hidden within her heavy wool cloak, some in the hem, and others in a secret pocket she fashioned within the folds of the garment. She had put nothing in her silk damask gown, for it was too fine.
    Alix had eaten the evening meal with Sir Udolf, who was now attempting a more intimate relationship with her. She managed to keep him at bay beneath a guise of shyness and propriety. It seemed to delight him and he praised her decorousness while attempting to kiss her now and again, chuckling when she fended him off with a scolding. Alix finally decided it was time to make her escape from the hall. She stood, but at the same time so did he. “I shall not come to table on the morrow, for I will at first light begin my prayers and fasting,” Alix said, attempting to move away from him.
    His arm reached out to clamp about her waist and he drew her to him. “Give me a little kiss for luck, sweet lass,” he said to her. His other hand fumbled at her breast.
    “My lord! Udolf!” Alix cried softly. “This behavior is most inappropriate. Let me go at once! Ohh, how can you shame me like this?” she protested to him.
    “Forgive me, sweet lass,” he said, but he did not release his hold upon her, and he could not resist giving her small round breast a little squeeze before he took his hand away. “From the moment I realized you were to be mine, I grew as eager as a lad with his first love,” he admitted. “The thought that you will be my wife has made me alive again! My son was a fool, Alix. You are fair to gaze upon. You are sweet-natured. I am a man long grown, but I cannot seem to resist you. I do not know how I will wait the winter long to possess you.” And then he kissed her mouth.
    It was not an unpleasant kiss. More eager and excited. Indeed, almost boyish and sweet. Nothing at all like that first cruel kiss she had received from Hayle. Alix gasped, surprised, and pulled away from him. “Shame, my lord!”
    “I will not apologize,” he said almost defiantly, but he made no further move to touch her. “I will be a good husband to you. And I mean to kiss you and court you the winter through, sweet lass. You might as well know it now and be accepting.”
    Alix let a little smile touch her lips. She couldn’t help it. Then she grew serious. “You must respect me, my lord,” she told him sternly, “even as I respect you.” Then she curtsied to him prettily. “Good hunting, Udolf.”
    He nodded. “Thank you, my lady love,” he replied as politely. “I will see you upon my return, and prepare to be kissed then.”
    Alix hurried from the hall. Aye, it was time to go before the baron’s newly discovered romantic nature aroused itself any further. Once a man’s lust was engaged, he could not be stopped until he had attained his goal. She had seen that happen at court, and it seemed to be the same wherever men and women went. He was a good man, but she could not wed him. She did not want to ever wed again. But what would she do? She could not remain in England. The baron might come after her, and a man’s word was always taken over a woman’s. And as part of the queen’s entourage her entire life until recently, she could be considered a traitor. She had overheard those who remained with King Henry until almost the end talking about how to save themselves and their families. Alix knew that association was often enough cause for guilt. No. She must leave England. She must go north, as the queen had done, into Scotland.
    And what will you do in Scotland ? the voice in