Margaret Moore - [Warrior 13] Page 6

  “That’s what I said, yes.”

  “How?”

  “Not consanguinity, that’s for certain,” Reece answered.

  “What’s that?” Trev demanded from his place on the floor.

  “In the church’s eyes, a marriage between people related to a certain degree is illegal.”

  “But we’re not related to the Delasaines, are we?”

  “No, thank God,” Reece replied. He darted a stern glance at Gervais. “And I don’t want to be in any way, so that is not the reason I shall give.”

  “What else—?” Gervais began. He fell silent and his eyes widened like roses blooming. “You’re not going to…?”

  “No.”

  Blaidd and Kynan looked equally incredulous as the full import of his scheme sank in.

  “Are you made of stone, boy?” Blaidd demanded after a long and dumbfounded silence.

  “No, I’m determined. After Henry has calmed down, and if Father and our friends impress upon him the reasons we should not be married, I think Henry can be persuaded to allow an annulment. He only wants peace in his court, and I do not think the Delasaines look with favor on this marriage, either, so he will not have peace this way.”

  “No, they don’t like it,” Gervais agreed. “Looked at the king as if he was proposing to do away with their estate even though…is it true there’s to be no dowry?”

  Reece nodded, and Gervais whistled.

  “Rumor has it they wanted to marry their sister off to Lord Renfrew,” Blaidd said.

  Reece hadn’t heard this before, and he wasn’t happy to hear it now. Lord Renfrew was too old, too fat and far too debauched—if only half of what was said about him was true—for Lady Anne. For any lady.

  Perhaps he could speak to Henry and suggest he find her a good husband, a man who was worthy of her, who would love and cherish her, and recognize her merits.

  A man a part of him would always envy.

  “Then they will want the annulment, too,” he said. “If Henry truly seeks peace, he should agree to grant it. Now his temper is too high, and he is too certain of his decision. Given time and a cooler head, he will surely see that this order was a mistake.”

  “I still don’t understand,” Trev said, scratching his chin. “What aren’t you going to do?”

  “Make the marriage fully legal,” Reece answered. Despite the practical and necessary nature of his plan and his resolve, he felt as warm with embarrassment as if he were seated on a brazier of glowing goals.

  “How…?”

  “He’s not going to love his wife,” Gervais explained.

  “Well, of course not. He never met her until yesterday. How could he be in love with her already?”

  Blaidd looked at Kynan with a dramatically woeful expression. “I think somebody’s education has been sorely neglected.”

  “We’re not Welsh,” Gervais retorted. “We’re a little more…circumspect…about certain things.”

  Blaidd grinned, the very picture of merry devilment. “Obviously.”

  Annoyed, Trev scrambled to his feet. “What don’t I know?”

  Reece sighed and decided he had better explain, or Trev would pester him with questions until he did. “What I mean is, I’m not going to make love with Lady Anne and consummate the marriage. It won’t be fully legal until I do and if not, I can have it annulled.”

  Trev blushed and looked very young. “Oh.”

  “Trev, my lad, I don’t know about your brothers, but I could use some wine,” Kynan said. “Would you mind fetching a carafe?”

  “All right.” Trev hurried from the room, apparently eager to leave them and the discussion.

  “God help me, I thought they’d hurt your head for sure, you seemed so meek and mild when we first got here,” Gervais said with a chuckle as the door closed. “I was expecting you to be so angry you’d be chewing the leg of that chair.”

  “Meek and mild?” Reece repeated, insulted. “I am not meek and mild.”

  “You’d better pray you can be, boy,” Blaidd noted, “with a wife like that you’re swearing not to touch.”

  Kynan nodded, his expression grave. “Are you sure this will work, Reece?”

  “Yes,” he said, not admitting any doubt even to himself. “Henry’s a capricious man, and I think he’s more angry than anything else. Once his anger has fled, I’m sure he’ll be more reasonable.”

  “If Eleanor also agrees,” Kynan muttered darkly.

  “Henry is the king, not her,” Reece declared, even as he recalled the way Eleanor seemed to have Henry under control.

  If that were so, his presence at court as one of Henry’s loyal vassals could be even more important.

  “Lady Anne’s a beautiful woman,” Blaidd noted.

  “Very beautiful,” Gervais added, doubts about Reece’s plan obviously occurring to him, too.

  They all thought he was that weak willed? Or prey to desire? He, who had never been seriously tempted by a woman in his life?

  Until now, a shrewd little voice whispered in his head.

  He subdued any qualms, for there was simply too much at stake to give in to the desire Anne undoubtedly aroused. “I assure you, I can and I will keep my distance from her when the alternative is a union between our family and hers.”

  “You certainly sound determined,” Blaidd remarked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

  “I certainly am.”

  The other three exchanged dubious looks.

  “You think I am that weak?” he demanded, wishing the Welshmen had gone back to their enigmatic ways, for once.

  “She’s got blond hair,” Gervais offered, leaning against the wall. “It was her blond hair got you in trouble in the first place, wasn’t it?”

  Reece wasn’t about to confess that Lady Anne’s blond hair had indeed been the first thing he had noticed. “You said it before. She’s beautiful.”

  “Well, then, you see? We’re right to be worried!” Kynan cried. “And she’s going to be in your bed every night, man! It would take a saint to keep from touching a beauty like that with her lying right beside you.”

  Kynan’s words brought a vision of such astonishing clarity to Reece that his body responded as if Anne were naked in bed beside him at that very moment.

  “I may not be a saint,” he said, crossing his legs, “but I can control myself.”

  “Like you’re doing right now, I suppose?” Blaidd countered.

  Reece blushed like a boy finally realizing what that change to his body meant, and the Welshman’s expression grew sympathetic. “Look, Reece, if anybody can do it, it would be you, but you’ve set yourself a difficult task.”

  Because his friend was truly concerned, Reece’s ire lessened. “Or perhaps I have set myself a fitting punishment for causing this mess in the first place. If I had been more restrained, I wouldn’t be in this predicament at all.” He voiced another source of disappointment and frustration. “It also means you get to stay at court, Gervais, not me, to speak up for our interests. Lady Anne and I should be away from court and curious, gossiping courtiers.”

  Gervais manfully did his best to look disappointed, but without much success.

  “Well,” Kynan observed with the air of a philosopher pondering the mysteries of the universe, “only human, aren’t you? I mean, if we were all forced to marry girls we followed at one time or another, or made inappropriate remarks to in the heat of the moment, we’d all have been married long ago. You didn’t kill anybody or do anything really serious, Reece. Her brothers are more to blame than you for the trouble.”

  “Half brothers,” Reece automatically amended. The moment the correction slipped from his lips, he wondered what had brought him to say that. The need to have even that little distance between his bride and her family, perhaps.

  “Whatever,” Kynan replied with a dismissive wave. “We all understand that this order is too severe for what you did, and so should Henry, eventually.”

  “I only hope my father does,�
� Reece said, looking at Gervais. Their father did not possess a fiery temper, but his displeasure was something to be avoided, in part because his cold disapproval made it all the worse.

  “I’m sure he will,” his brother answered, trying to look as if he believed it. “Mother will be pleased, at any rate, to see Trev home from his first melee safe and sound.”

  “Yes, she will,” Kynan confirmed. “Our mother fell on Blaidd’s neck weeping after he returned from his first tournament.”

  “She did not!”

  “She did, too. I remember distinctly.”

  Ignoring the Welshmen, Gervais clapped his hand on Reece’s shoulder. “This trouble will soon be remedied. I’m sure of it.”

  Reece nodded and smiled, and told himself it would be so.

  Now if only he could get the vision of Anne naked in his bed out of his mind.

  Chapter Five

  Anne stood at the window of her chamber, absently toying with a bit of broken stone as she stared unseeing over the courtyard below. For a mercy, Lisette had not been here when she returned from her meeting with the king. It had been bad enough hurrying past the little knots of inquisitive courtiers who were not in the hall.

  So much had happened in so short a time she could scarcely comprehend it all. She was to be married, to the virile, enigmatic Sir Reece Fitzroy, who most certainly did not want her.

  That meeting in the corridor had been but a harmless flirtation to him. She should have followed the urgings of her rational mind and left him the moment he came out of the shadows, but she hadn’t. His sudden appearance, the mysterious man himself—it had simply been the most exciting, thrilling thing that had ever happened to her.

  But then, disaster.

  She flicked the stone out the window as her anger surged again. Damon and Benedict were vicious fools who had not foreseen the consequences of their cowardly attack on a knight of the realm. Instead, they had made what should have been only a cause for mild rebuke into a political problem, with her and Sir Reece to bear the punishment.

  Well, at least Sir Reece considered it a punishment to be forced to marry. That is what Damon had planned for her anyway—a marriage to some man of his choosing, not hers. Likely Damon would pick a rich, influential man like Lord Renfrew or, even worse, a rich old lecher who would paw her body and demand a son.

  Sir Reece was young, he was good-looking, he was virile and, while he had been impertinent by following her, he had not been lecherous. His gaze and his touch did not make her feel soiled, as others did.

  It was so easy to envision sharing Sir Reece’s bed. Warmth flowed through her as she thought of being in Sir Reece’s strong arms, held in his powerful embrace, his lips hot and soft against hers.

  Yet what else did she know of him? He had insolently followed her from the hall and spoken to her, although he had not been overtly lascivious. If anything, he had been deferential and apologetic.

  But maybe she should remember the act more than the manner of his speech. Perhaps that was the true indication of the man’s character.

  And surely this marriage would only make matters worse. Damon would be furious at the destruction of his plans. Although his brutality was partly to blame, he would never concede that. He would blame Sir Reece, her, even Henry, and seek to have his vengeance, one way or another.

  Yet if the marriage was annulled, she would have to return to Montbleu, and her half brothers would again be able to marry her off to someone of their choosing.

  No matter what the future held for her, though, she had achieved one good thing: she had been able to remove Piers from Damon and Benedict’s influence. As she had said to Sir Reece, she would have Piers learn from good men, not bad.

  The latch of the door moved. Perhaps the squires’ melee had ended and Piers was finally come.

  Once again, Damon strode inside, and she saw that even being spared paying her the dowry had not mollified him, as the king believed it would.

  She leaned back against the sill, trying to put as much distance between them as possible, while he crossed the room in two strides. He raised his fist and struck her shoulder so hard the blow sent her stumbling sideways.

  “What the devil are you playing at, Anne?” he demanded.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” she said as she righted herself, her hand to her shoulder. “I’m not playing at anything.”

  He cursed her, the words crude and ugly. Then he cursed Sir Reece in terms even worse.

  “I have no choice but to marry Sir Reece, Damon,” she said, struggling to hide her rage at his words and his treatment of her. “I could not refuse the king’s command, could I? Besides, when he said there would be no dowry, I thought you would be pleased.”

  “To have my sister wed to a Fitzroy? They should be paying us for the privilege!”

  “Not when you told everyone Sir Reece was trying to rape me. The way you attacked him might lead them to believe he succeeded. It could be that no one you consider suitable will want me now—or had you not considered that?”

  She watched her words sink in. By attacking Sir Reece, Damon was as responsible for all that had come after, and she would have him realize that. Hopefully it might make him think twice before he resorted to brute force again.

  He did not look the least bit contrite as he circled around her, his steps slow and measured. “That does not explain why Piers is to go with you.”

  “I asked it of the king.”

  Damon’s brows lowered ominously.

  “You yourself have called him a nuisance so many times—”

  “You had no right to ask that,” Damon said, grabbing her by the shoulders. “I decide where Piers goes and with whom.”

  Anne twisted out of his grasp. “Do you intend to say that to the king?”

  Damon did not answer as his scowl deepened.

  “It is well-known that Sir Urien Fitzroy excels at the training of knights. Why not allow Piers the opportunity to learn from such a man and be in the company of youths from some of the most important families in England?” she continued, giving reasons Damon would surely agree with.

  “Very well. I shall let the brat go.”

  Relief tumbled through her, until she noticed the sly, calculating look that had come to Damon’s dark, beady eyes. “Perhaps your marriage to Fitzroy need not be a complete disaster,” he said. “You are right. Fitzroy has trained many sons of the nobility, men who wield great power and influence at court—men who are his friends. When you are in his household, you can find out all about these men. If they meet and when and where. With whom they are allied, and who they perceive to be enemies. How they feel about the king and his queen, that sort of thing.”

  Dismay and the sickening sensation of defeat settled upon her. She should have held her tongue. She did not want to spy for Damon, or help him in his ruthless, ambitious climb to power. Perspiration began to trickle down her back beneath her silken gown. “And if I do not?” she queried.

  “We will take Piers away and you will never see him again.”

  “The king himself said Piers is to train with Urien Fitzroy.”

  “The king doesn’t give a tinker’s dam about some boy,” Damon retorted, his lip curling with scorn and complete confidence in his reasoning. “Especially if we say we would rather he learn in France, his family’s home. Eleanor will agree with us, and so I doubt Henry would protest. He won’t want a conflict with his bride because of a boy like Piers.”

  He was probably right about that. She had seen the way Henry looked at Eleanor; he would not wish to make trouble with his wife over a youth.

  “Life at court is fraught with dangers, if one is ignorant of friendships and alliances,” Damon said with a cold little smile. “You want us to be safe, don’t you?”

  Safe from the detection of whatever evil schemes they were hatching, he meant.

  There must be some way she could avoid involvement in Damon’s disgusting, dishonorable scheme. “I cannot write. You would not permi
t me to learn. How am I to get the information to you?”

  Damon mused a moment, and Anne began to hope that she had found the flaw in his plan. But all too soon that scheming glow returned to Damon’s dark eyes. “Benedict can follow you to Bridgeford Wells. You can tell him all you learn.”

  “You expect him to be welcomed into Sir Reece’s home after what you have done?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then where am I to meet with him, or find out when?”

  “He will await you in the village, claiming to be…a soldier headed home. You can find some pretext to go there. You will look for him, and he will be looking for you. You’re a clever girl, Anne. You’ll find him one way or another, because you know the penalty if you don’t.”

  It was a vague scheme, one that could easily go wrong. And if it did, it would not be Damon who would suffer the most. “What if I am discovered? Or Benedict is?”

  Damon shrugged.

  “There is nothing wrong with a brother following to make sure his sister is being well taken care of, especially under such circumstances.”

  Anne could not keep the scorn from her voice. “Anyone who knows Benedict will know that is a lie.”

  “Lie or not, they cannot disprove it—unless you tell them of this conversation which, of course, you will not do, for then they will know you are a treacherous spy. For a wife to conspire against her husband is a serious offense. You would be imprisoned, at the very least.”

  He was right, and she wanted to scream as the trap closed around her.

  Damon got to his feet and once more his hateful, cruel smile curled his lips as he ran his serpent’s gaze over her. “There is no need to look so distraught, Anne. All you have to do is seduce him and get with his child. That should protect you from your husband’s wrath. And if you get him to love you, he will confide in you all the more. You are a beautiful woman. You should have no trouble there.”

  He grabbed her gown and pulled her close, his breath hot on her face, his eyes fierce as a ravening wolf. “Only one thing matters, and that is that you do as I tell you or I will insure that you never see your beloved, darling brother again. How you find out what I want to know, or how you protect yourself against your husband’s wrath, I leave up to you.”