Denise Lynn Read online

  Agatha's eyebrows shot up. 'And you think that will keep him out if he's of a mind to get in here?'

  Obviously her maid remembered Jared's rash temper, too. 'Maybe not, but at least the splintering wood will give us some warning.'

  'You are sorely testing him, child.'

  'I know. But it is no less than what he deserves.'

  'After all this time you still think to make him pay for something he couldn't help?'

  'Something he couldn't help?' Lea disagreed. 'He had a choice and he didn't choose me.'

  'You forced him into a corner. Did you truly believe he would choose you over the Empress's orders? Lady Lea, choosing you over his liege would have stripped him of his honour, not to mention his self-worth.'

  'Others have refused to follow Matilda and Stephen into war. Jared's own father refused to become embroiled in this senseless battle for the crown.'

  Agatha nodded. 'And where is he now? Sitting comfortably in his own keep?'

  No. Jared's parents were living amongst the wild Welsh. She doubted if they had many comforts at all. 'I would have lived anywhere as long as Jared was by my side.'

  Even as she said the words she knew they weren't true. 'We could have lived here at Montreau.

  My father took neither side and we were not turned out of our home.'

  Agatha briefly touched her cheek. 'And you know why that happened as well as anyone.'

  Lea's throat tightened at the memory. Her brother, Phillip, had been hunting near a village to the north when it had come

  under attack by Stephen's men. Since the battle had been waged as a warning to King David, the men had killed everyone before burning the village and the fields.

  Phillip hadn't known what was happening and when he tried to help a villager, he'd been murdered for his trouble.

  In retribution against Stephen, Matilda's men had razed two villages in the south.

  Lea would never forget the night her brother's body was returned to them. One of Stephen's men had recognised the Montreau seal on Phillip's ring and brought him to the keep.

  Her mother had been inconsolable for many months afterwards. Her father had bitterly voiced his disgust of both Stephen and Matilda.

  For weeks men from the king and the empress had tried to gain her father's support. He had refused them all. Only when Stephen himself had come to Montreau did her father strike a deal.

  Montreau would take neither side. They would remain steadfastly neutral, giving neither support nor gold to either of the combatants.

  Stephen had sent word to Matilda and she'd sent her uncle to Montreau in her stead. That was when they'd discovered King David liked apple tarts. In truth, Lea was fairly certain what he actually liked was the cook. But that had always remained nothing more than a rumour.

  Whether that was true or not didn't matter. What did matter was that there were signed documents granting Montreau's status of neutrality.

  So, yes, she knew why her father hadn't chosen a side. What she could never understand was why Jared felt compelled to do so.

  For seven long years the land was in turmoil. Brother fought brother. Father fought son. Innocent people died. Crops were wasted. Buildings and land destroyed.

  How could Jared have cared so littie about her that he put senseless killings and destruction above what they could have shared?

  How could anyone have expected her to live with a man who so obviously enjoyed the bloodshed?

  'Yes, Agatha, I know why Montreau has remained safe thus far.'

  'And yet you still insist on testing the patience of the Empress's man?'

  'Yes. Yes, I do.'

  The maid slipped the chemise over Lea's head. 'You are playing where you have no experience.'

  'He's no different from any other man.'

  'Oh? And a lot you know about men.' Agatha adjusted the skirt of Lea's gown. 'Besides Lord Jared, you have only Charles to use as a comparison. And, child, where Charles was merely unappealing, this man is dangerous.'

  'Unpredictable at times, perhaps. But I don't think he's dangerous.' Lea believed what she'd told him last night. He wasn't going to do anything she'd not permit. 'Do you still intend to follow through with your plan?'

  Agatha's question gave Lea pause. She wasn't certain she could. The idea of seducing Jared overwhelmed her with all the implications it carried. She knew him—quite well. If he ever caught wind that she'd had a baby, he wouldn't be as accepting of the child's parentage as others.

  No, she wouldn't put it past him to come back to Montreau to investigate the claim himself.

  Besides, she didn't know how long he would be here to begin with. If he remained long enough to witness her pregnancy, she'd never get rid of him.

  At one time she had loved him so much that having his children had been one of her goals. In her dreams they'd had three or four children—all of them conceived and raised in love.

  Knowing Agatha was studying her closely while waiting for an answer, Lea admitted, 'I'm not certain. I need time to think about what to do. But in the meantime it can't hurt if I gain his interest and ensure it remains until I do decide.'

  'I am warning you, Lady Lea, Jared is no longer a young man inexperienced with life. He will play this game of yours for only so long. Then he will take matters into his own hands. Be careful you don't get more than you bargained for.'

  She didn't agree, but to appease her maid she promised, 'Fear not. I will be careful.'

  Jared stepped out into the bailey with Lea at his side. He squinted against the sunshine.

  The problem with a clear, blue sky and calm spring breeze was that such perfection cried out for something to go horribly wrong.

  He stole a glance at the vision of loveliness beside him. At least she hadn't kept him waiting.

  And, to his grateful relief, she'd chosen a gown suitable to wear in public.

  While the idea of seeing her body through the sheerness of that misty fabric she'd worn last night would actually please him, the idea that others would be looking, too, oddly bothered him.

  In fact, to be honest, it bothered him far too much. And it shouldn't. She was no longer his betrothed, so what did he care if she displayed her wares for all to see?

  He'd been played for a fool once. He wasn't about to let her worm her way into his heart again.

  He needed to remember that she was nothing more to him than a charge to oversee until further orders arrived.

  Jared clenched and unclenched a hand. Hopefully, those orders would arrive soon. He'd vowed to protect Montreau and its lady.

  A lady he'd once desired above all others. One who had propositioned him at the gates last night.

  While it would be easy enough to protect the keep and people from an outside enemy, who would protect the lady from him?

  Especially since she now had a body that begged for a man's touch. The years had been more than kind to Lea. She had always been lovely, but now the slimness had softened into curves.

  Curves he'd like to caress.

  It was all he could do to remember she was a lady and deserved the same care and consideration he'd extend to his sisters. But his mind laughed at that—Lea was most definitely not one of his sisters.

  He was jarred out of his thoughts by her laughter as she called out to a passing man, 'Behave yourself, Simon. I might need to talk with Alyce.'

  'Who is Alyce?' That she bantered with everyone they encountered set him on edge even more, making his voice harsher than he'd intended.

  She looked up at him, surprise evident on her face. 'Simon's wife. He was flirting with one of the girls.'

  'And how is that any of your business?'

  'Everything that happens at Montreau is my business.'

  'Not any more it isn't.'

  'You will not be here for ever—my lord.'

  'Do not count on that. You might be calling me lord for a long time to come.'

  It took him a few steps before he realised she was no longer at his side. With a
curse, Jared turned around to see her heading back to the keep.

  He quickly caught up with her and grasped her arm. 'Where do you think you're going?'

  She shook free. 'As far away from you as possible.'

  'What's wrong? You are free to loosen your tongue on me, but as soon as I return the favour you run away to pout?'

  'I am not pouting and I am most certainly not running away from you.'

  'Since I am familiar with your running away, I'd have to disagree. What would you call it?'

  'Nothing.' She lifted her face to the sun. 'I call it nothing. It is simply too glorious a day to be ruined by a foul mood.'

  Not that he would admit it, but she had a point. 'Let us call a temporary truce. Show me around Montreau.'

  She shrugged. 'You know your way around Montreau, I've no need to show it to you.'

  'Perhaps, but a lot has changed since I was last here.'

  'What do you wish to see?'

  Jared nodded across the bailey. 'The newer additions. Start with the stables—'

  'My lord!' One of his men stationed on the wall shouted at the same time one of Montreau's men called out, 'My lady, riders approach!'

  'Riders?' She started for the wall.

  Jared lengthened his stride and stopped in front of her. 'What are you doing?'

  She looked at him as if he'd lost his wits. 'Going to see who approaches.'

  'No.' He beckoned to one of his men. 'Escort the lady back inside the keep.'

  She stepped away from the guard. 'If he lays one hand on me, I'll see it severed from his arm.'

  The guard's eyes widened.

  Jared glared at her. 'You will do as I say, or I swear, Lea, I will have you locked in a cell.'

  The look she gave him spoke louder than any words. At this moment it was apparent she hated him fiercely. But he didn't care—she couldn't despise him any more than he'd hated her for so long. Right now, it was his duty to see she was safe and he'd be damned if he'd fail in that.

  'Just last night you permitted an army into your keep.'

  'I had been advised of your arrival.'

  'You weren't told exactly who was coming, only that a man from the empress would be arriving.'

  'I knew it was you—*

  'No.' He cut her off. 'You only guessed. Had you guessed incorrectly, had I been a stranger walking through your open

  gates, I could have razed Montreau and killed everyone, including you.'

  She paled, but said nothing in her defence. How could she, when as far as he was concerned there was no defence for such an unthinking action?

  'Don't test me on this, Lea. You will not win.'

  To his relief, she turned towards the keep. 'I expect a full report on my visitors.'

  Jared motioned the guard to follow her, then called out, 'My visitors, Lea.'

  She stopped and faced him. 'I expect a full report.'

  He nodded, wondering why, when she tilted her head at that arrogant angle, did her mouth look so kissable?

  Once she was safely back inside the keep, he mounted the wall and waited for the three riders to come close enough to hail.

  Instead of granting them entry, he ordered, 'State your business.'

  One of the men, dressed a bit finer than the other two, urged his horse closer. 'I am Markam Villaire, here to see my brother's widow. Who are you?'

  'I am Lord Jared of Warehaven and Montreau. What business have you with Lady Lea?'

  'Lord of Montreau?' Confusion was evident by his deepening frown. 'As Lord Charles's only surviving relative I am here to ensure Montreau's safety. Am I arrived too late?'

  'My lord, a moment.' One of Montreau's men stepped closer. 'While he is Lord Charles's brother, he does not have the lady's best interest at heart.'

  Jared had already gathered that by the man's statement. He'd not come to protect Lea, but instead to see to her property.

  'Too late? For what?'

  'I need not answer to you. You are a stranger to me.'

  Jared wrapped a hand around his sword hilt. 'I am in control of this keep.'

  'By whose orders?'

  Since Jared had not the slightest clue to whom this man was loyal, he drew his sword, answering,

  'By my orders.' He pointedly stared at each of the three men. 'Do you think to challenge me?'

  Not surprisingly they all shook their head. 'No. There is no need for such rashness. May I at least speak to the lady before going on my way?'

  Something Jared couldn't name twisted at his gut. He'd permit the man in, but he'd not take his attention off him for one heartbeat. He nodded towards the gate tower, ordering, 'Let them through.'

  Chapter Three

  Frustrated, Lea prowled the Great Hall. Anger bubbled near the surface, making her feel trapped.

  Not just by her tightly reined temper, but by the over-watchful eyes of Warehaven's guards. She was confined like a prisoner in her own hall, unable to escape with them at the doors.

  Yes, she had left the gates open—she'd known they were coming. Not only had the empress sent word, but Lea had dreamed of the longships and him. Who else would have arrived by dragon-prow longships?

  Besides, it wasn't as if she lacked the ability to reason. Had she felt even the slightest qualm for Montreau, she'd have ordered the gates closed and her men to take up arms.

  She wanted to rail aloud at his high-handed treatment of her, but knew it would be a waste of her time and energy. And while she had every right to resent being ordered inside the keep, she was certain he would see any grievance as nothing more than a woman's complaint.

  The oversized double doors groaned open. Lea swung around to berate Jared, only to swallow her words before she could utter a sound. She stared at the men walking into her keep.

  What were Markam Villaire and his men doing here? After sending him news of his brother's drowning, she'd expected him

  days ago. He hadn't responded to her missive, or bothered to attend the memorial mass held for Charles.

  Not that his lack of response had surprised her. She and Markam had little liking for each other.

  At their initial meeting he had considered her a weak, timid woman he could manipulate at will.

  She'd instantly recognised him as an overbearing tyrant.

  What he lacked in height—Markam was the only man she could literally look down on—he more than made up for in arrogance and browbeating.

  While Charles had taken his brother's tactics in his stride, she had taken great pleasure in showing Markam she'd not be so easily intimidated. An act that had done little to endear her to her husband or brother-by-marriage.

  But in truth, since he hadn't shown up for the mass, Lea had thought—and hoped—she'd seen the last of him.

  So what did he want now?

  The moment Villaire spotted her, he waved his men aside, dropped a mask of concern over his face and hurried towards her with his arms outstretched. 'Dear sister Lea, I came as quickly as I could.'

  Lea had to fight the urge to flee. Not that she feared him, but when a Villaire displayed any semblance of human emotion, she knew they were up to something.

  Something that would not bode well for her.

  Just before he could put his arms around her, Lea sidestepped away to turn towards a servant.

  'Bring our guest food and drink.' She then nodded to one of Warehaven's men, suggesting, 'See if your lord is hungry.'

  Certain she'd made her disdain clear, she turned back to Villaire. Lea motioned him towards the raised dais at the far end of the Great Hall and asked, 'Why are you here?'

  'Did you not send for me?' He dropped on to the high-backed chair before she could take her seat.

  Lea wanted to point out that she was the Lady of Montreau and that he was in her chair. But she didn't want to raise a commotion in front of Warehaven's men. Instead, she leaned against a wooden support beam a few feet from the chair, forcing Markam to turn towards her.

  'Send for you? No. I only informed you
of your brother's passing.'

  'His body has washed up?'

  Being crass and unthinking was something both of the Villaires had mastered. 'Not yet.'

  'Then unless you know something you aren't sharing—' Villaire's eyes narrowed '—you can't be certain he is dead.'

  Was he accusing her of something? 'The men in the other boat saw his vessel overturn. They looked for him and the other four men well into the next morning.'

  She had stood on the shore all night, waiting, watching, freezing in the sea-swept wind while the men took turns diving into the frigid water. They'd used weighted fishing nets, dragging the water for Charles and the others. They would have continued for ever had she not called a halt. By mid-morning the waves had increased, tossing the anchored boats nearly into each other. She'd seen no reason to lose more men to the sea.

  Lea added, 'Besides, were Charles alive, he would have come home. Or at least sent word of his whereabouts.' Her husband hadn't been the sort of man to live without his comforts for long.

  It had been one of the reasons her father first thought Charles a suitable match. He knew Villaire would never be the type of man to go off to war, endangering the neutrality of Montreau. The mere idea of Charles sleeping on the hard ground, or even on a pallet, was laughable.

  'What if my brother is injured? He could be hurt so badly that he is unable to return to your side, or send you word.'

  The sense that Markam was up to something only increased with his insistence that Charles could still be alive. She refused to believe that was possible.

  'No. We searched the shoreline for miles in either direction. The men went to each village along the way to make certain all knew what had happened. So, even if he were unable to send us word, one of the villagers would have seen to the task.'

  Markam turned away from her, and folded his hands on top of the table as if in prayer. 'I cannot believe—I refuse to believe he is dead. Not until someone can show me proof.'

  His voice trembled and cracked with emotion. Lea stepped away from the beam, frowning.

  Charles and Markam had never been close. Of what benefit was this overt display?

  'What type of proof do you require?'