Denise Lynn Read online

  Lea jumped at Jared's question. She'd not seen or heard him enter the hall, let alone approach the dais. How long had he been standing there, listening?

  Markam lifted his head and turned the saddest, most grieving look towards Jared that Lea had ever seen, before lowering his head nearly to the table. His shoulders trembled. The lout was enacting this charade for Jared's benefit.

  She opened her mouth, only to snap it shut when Jared shook his head once and raised his hand, commanding her silently to be

  quiet. Before she could gather her wits, he moved her aside and took a seat on the bench running the length of the table.

  'I will have the men do another search for your brother. Until then, you are welcome to stay at Montreau.'

  Markam cleared his throat and sat up. Lea watched speechless as his feigned expression of grief changed to one of gratitude. Jared didn't know this man. He wouldn't recognise the shimmer of devious plotting in the slighdy narrowed gaze. Charles's brother would trick him, manipulate him into something distasteful.

  'My Lord Warehaven, thank you. You are too kind.'

  She tapped Jared's shoulder. 'A word?'

  He ignored her and kept his focus on Markam. 'I am sure that, with your assistance, the men will be successful this time around.'

  Markam's eyes widened. 'My assistance?'

  It was all Lea could do not to laugh at the horror etched on the man's face. Perhaps she'd misjudged Jared. It was possible he'd seen Villaire for the weasel he was.

  Even so, there was one thing wrong with the plan. If Markam were underfoot, how was she going to seduce Jared if she decided that was the path to follow?

  Certain Markam was in capable hands, Lea left the men alone. She needed some air and time to think of her next move.

  Jared watched Lea slowly leave the hall. He'd expected her to storm away, angry that he'd taken over lordship of Montreau and invited Villaire to stay.

  Instead of appearing outraged, she acted more thoughtful, as if her mind were elsewhere. He'd have preferred the anger—at

  least then he'd know what to expect. Jared feared her contemplative mood would only spell trouble—for him.

  'My sister-by-marriage is a very attractive woman, is she not?'

  Unwilling to give away any information about his prior relationship with Lea, Jared said, 'I suppose.' He backed up the lie by saying, 'I haven't yet had the time to notice.' He turned his attention to Villaire. He didn't like the man in the least, but it might prove interesting to see where this conversation led. If nothing else, it would pass the time.

  'It is too bad she is still wed to another.'

  Jared paused before replying. While Villaire wasn't to be trusted, he was the dead man's brother.

  Perhaps it was still difficult for him to accept the death. So, he countered, 'You truly believe that your brother is still alive?'

  'Perhaps, or perhaps not. Without a body, who is to say?'

  It wasn't so much the man's words, as it was the tone. Villaire sounded—smug—all knowing. The slight smirk when he glanced away served only to make Jared trust him less. 'We should know in a day or so.'

  'Even if we do not discover Charles's remains, I have already petitioned the king.'

  'For what?'

  Villaire sat back in the chair. He rubbed his hands along the wooden arms as if they belonged to a woman and announced, 'Guardianship of Montreau.'

  The only response that statement deserved was an outright laugh. But Jared wanted to know the workings behind this man's illogical ideas. He turned away to summon one of the maids for something to drink. At this point in time he didn't care what.

  He'd drink vinegar if it would keep him from choking on his suppressed mirth.

  When the young woman placed a pitcher and goblets on the table, Jared waved her away before pouring two goblets of ale. He swallowed half the contents of one, then offered the other one to Villaire, saying, 'Montreau has a guardian. Me.'

  'Yes, but you have no rights to Montreau.'

  Had things turned out differently seven years ago, that would not be true and none of this would be happening. But the exchange of vows had never happened. And he'd still been too angiy with her to protest her betrothal to Villaire the next year.

  From what Jared remembered of their betrothal agreement, the only person who had any rights to this castle was Lady Lea. Even he was here only until Matilda had need of him elsewhere. 'And what rights do you claim to Montreau?'

  Villaire eased further down into the chair as if prepared to make himself a nest in the ornate seat.

  'She is wed to my brother. However, if rumours of his death should prove true, I am her only surviving kin.' He took a long drink, then continued, 'It is my duty to see that she and Montreau are cared for properly.'

  Jared stared at a flea scurrying across Villaire's forehead, wondering idly if a quick dagger strike would kill the flea. If someone didn't see this man for a conniving opportunist, they might believe the cur's explanation.

  Unfortunately for Markam, he recognised the gleam of prospective gain in his eyes. Since the church would never permit Villaire to wed his deceased brother's wife, he would most likely wed her to someone of his choosing—someone of the same ilk as he, albeit weaker—someone Villaire could easily

  control. Then he would milk every ounce of profit from the keep and land.

  Jared frowned. Lea obviously disliked, or distrusted, her brother-by-marriage. Otherwise she wouldn't have sent a guard to find him.

  What would happen when she protested Villaire's plans? There was no doubt she would fight him at every turn. How well would the man care for her then?

  No. Jared was here to protect her and Montreau. Nothing was going to happen to either.

  Markam asked, 'Did you say you were from Warehaven?'

  'Yes.' Even though he knew the answer, Jared asked, 'Why do you ask?'

  'Aren't you the Empress Matilda's man?'

  'Yes.' Jared had no reason to deny his loyalty.

  Villaire's lips thinned. 'In fact, aren't you the son of her bastard brother?'

  Jared smiled, intentionally flashing his teeth like a hungry predator. 'That I am.'

  He leaned closer, satisfied when Villaire flinched away. 'I suggest you keep a civil tongue in your head when speaking of my family, lest I take offence.'

  'Does Lady Lea know who you are?'

  'Of course she does.'

  'And she permitted you entry to Montreau?'

  'She had no choice.'

  'You forced your way into my brother's keep?' Villaire's eyes widened. 'But—but you, sir, are the enemy.'

  Enemy? At a neutral keep? 'No. Lady Lea knew I was coming.' He couldn't help adding, 'But force would have been an option had she not permitted me entry.'

  Now Villaire's face paled. He rose. 'I need speak to Lady Lea about this. I cannot let this pass.'

  'Let what pass?' Jared rose and glared down at the man. 'This is neutral territory. It always has been. I am here to ensure it remains that way.'

  'But King—' Villaire clamped his mouth shut as if he'd been about to say too much.

  Jared's hand twitched toward his sword. 'Stephen will find a warm welcome should he decide to declare Montreau for himself.'

  Backing away, the other man kept his blinking stare trained on Jared's weapon. 'I will take this up with the king myself.'

  'You do that.'

  'My lord?' Lady Lea's woman, Agatha, approached the table. She pointedly ignored Villaire and instead addressed Jared, 'It is almost time for the meal. Will you be much longer?'

  Jared shook his head. 'No. We're done here.'

  Villaire turned on his heels and headed for the doors. He would most likely take his anger straight to Lea.

  Certain the lady could hold her own for a time, Jared followed at a slower pace.

  Even Villaire wasn't fool enough to physically harm Lea. But nobody could know how far, or hard, she would push her brother-by-marriage.

  Jared
rolled the tension from his shoulders. It might prove interesting to discover which one of them would need to be protected.

  The sound of heavy, belaboured breathing and footsteps behind her made Lea aware she was no longer alone. She didn't need to turn around to see who thought to disturb the quiet she'd found in this tower.

  The walk up here wouldn't have caused Jared's breathing to be so hard. Agatha's footsteps wouldn't be as heavy. That left only Villaire. Now what did he want?

  'What—were you thinking—to give that—man entry to Montreau?' Markam gasped without greeting.

  'I don't answer to you.'

  Markam joined her at the wall and to her surprise he laughed before informing her, 'That will change soon enough.'

  A scheming Villaire was nothing new to her. However, to be the object of this Villaire's scheme unsetded her more than she'd admit.

  Lea couldn't decide what bothered her more—his comment, or his ominous tone. Where Charles had been petty, at least he'd been easy to read. Something dark and unreadable lurked behind Markam's words.

  Knowing he expected the question, she kept her voice steady and asked the obvious, 'And why is that?'

  'Since you can do nothing to change things, I see no reason not to prepare you.'

  He turned to face her, leaning his shoulder against the wall. 'I have petitioned the king. Soon Montreau will be under my control.'

  Lea's first impulse was to tell him how insane his idea sounded. But the sick, sinking cold dread settling in the pit of her stomach froze the words in her throat.

  What if King Stephen decided to ignore the royal writs stowed away in her chamber?

  With Charles and both of her parents dead, Markam would be considered her sole living relative.

  Even if the relationship existed only through marriage, it would stand up to any royal or ecclesiastical test.

  Her second impulse was to throw him over the side of the tower. But he wouldn't fit through the cut-outs in the crenellated stone and she doubted if she could lift him over the wall.

  Instead, she shrugged nonchalantly, before saying, 'You might want to discuss that with my betrothed first.'

  Markam's eyes widened until they appeared ready to bulge from his head. He finally sputtered,

  'Betrothed? My brother may not even be dead and you are already involved with another man?'

  'Your brother is dead.' Of that she was certain. 'Besides, the betrothal wasn't my choice.'

  'Who's made this decision?'

  'Empress Matilda sent word a few days ago.'

  Markam's frown drew his eyebrows together. 'And the man?'

  'Lord Jared of Warehaven.'

  Chapter Four

  Disbelief deepened Markam's frown. He stepped closer to Lea.

  'Warehaven said nothing about a betrothal to me when I told him of my plans.'

  That was because Jared didn't know about it. This fabricated betrothal had been the only thing she could think of quickly. Of course now she had to explain it to him.

  It would just be temporary, until Villaire left. It wasn't as if she expected Jared to take it seriously. In fact, she was fairly certain he'd be outraged at the claim.

  Before she could respond to Markam, strong fingers curled over her shoulder, making her flinch in surprise.

  'I said nothing because we'd hoped to finalise our arrangement before making it known.' Jared's deep voice floated over her shoulder.

  Obviously he'd heard enough of the conversation to realise what she was doing and for some reason had decided to play along, although she didn't expect that to last more than a short time.

  Eventually, she would still have to explain.

  While she was grateful for his help, Jared's warm touch and closeness made her nervous. An attempt to put a little more distance between them resulted in him moving close enough to bring the hard plane of his chest against her back.

  The heat, and just the mere thought of his tall, strong form against hers was—distracting. The nearly forgotten warmth made her remember things best left in the past.

  His frown easing, Villaire asked, 'So, no plans are set for a quick exchange of vows?'

  'No.' Lea shook her head.

  'That is good.' He stepped away from her and headed toward the stairs, pausing at the door long enough to add, 'It would be a shame if you were to commit bigamy because of a marriage made in haste."

  She tried to move away, but Jared held her in place. After Villaire's footsteps faded away, he demanded, 'Explain yourself.'

  His breath raced hot against her ear. Shivering, Lea swallowed, giving herself a moment to clear her head of the sudden dizziness threatening to overtake her. 'He is planning to take Montreau.'

  'And you think to lessen his greed by lying to him?'

  'It wasn't exactly a lie.'

  'Are you suffering from some malady of the mind?'

  'No. Not at all.' The only malady she was suffering from at the moment was the warmth of his body against her back and the feel of his unyielding hold on her shoulder.

  'What makes you think this fabrication about a betrothal isn't exactly a lie?'

  'The note from the empress.'

  He released her shoulder long enough to spin her around to face him. 'What note?'

  For a moment, no longer than a heartbeat, she missed the warmth of his body. But when she looked up at him, she quickly

  stepped back from the anger simmering in his emerald glare. 'The one she sent telling me you'd be arriving.'

  'She sent you a note explaining that I was coming to protect you and Montreau. There was nothing else in the missive.'

  He was wrong, but she wasn't going to argue with him. 'As you will.'

  His jaw tightened. A small pulse along the side of his stubble- covered cheek jumped. 'Don't.'

  Lea glanced briefly over the edge of the wall and held her tongue. It was a long way to the ground from here. Baiting Jared alone, on the tower-wall walk, most likely wasn't the wisest move on her part.

  'You do still have this missive?'

  'Yes, of course I do. In my chamber.'

  Before she could offer to retrieve it for him, he was tugging her toward the stairs. 'I want to see it.

  Now.'

  He didn't believe her. She followed along, asking, 'What reason would I have to lie to you?'

  Jared made a sound that sounded suspiciously like a snort of derision. Without releasing her hand, he led her down the steps. 'You never needed a reason before. Why would now be any different?'

  'I beg your pardon?'

  'Don't play the simpleton with me, Lea. You know exactiy what I'm talking about. Do you really want to discuss this now?'

  'No. We have nothing to discuss. Nothing, Jared. Not today, or ever.'

  He didn't need to turn around and look at her to know she was answering through clenched teeth.

  The angry edge to her voice was unmistakable. Good. She deserved to be angry. In fact, the angrier the better. It was time she experienced just a little of what he'd felt at her betrayal.

  Arriving at the door to her chamber, he asked, 'Tell me something, Lea, do you offer yourself to every man who is granted entry through your gates?'

  The instant the words left his mouth, Jared knew he'd be wise to protect his back. Before releasing her hand, he turned to face her.

  He wasn't the least bit surprised to see the tight line of her lips, flushed cheeks, or the glittering rage in her eyes. What did amaze him was the heavy pounding in his chest. She was stunning, nearly robbing him of breath along with the ability to think clearly.

  Jared stepped round her and pulled Lea into the chamber. Holding her against his chest with one arm, he slammed the door closed behind them and dropped the locking bar into place.

  'Or was that display only for me?'

  'Jared, don't.' She pushed at his arms. 'Let me go.'

  'I thought we were betrothed?' He lowered his head and tasted the soft expanse of her neck. The familiar scent of lavender enveloped
him, making him only want more.

  'Please.' She trembled against him. 'Please don't do this.'

  By the breathless tone of her voice, he knew she wasn't as immune to his attentions as she claimed. 'Isn't this what you wanted last night?'

  He trailed a line of kisses up to her ear, smiling as a shiver rippled through her. 'Isn't this what you offered?'

  'I.. .1...' She lowered her arms and leaned against him. 'It was a mistake.'

  Jared caressed her hair; the silken strands did indeed still wrap around his hand as if fighting to hold him close. 'A mistake? So your claim that you knew I had come to protect Montreau was nothing more than yet another lie?'

  'No. I—'

  He tugged her hair, forcing her head back, and covered her lips with his own to stop her words.

  Jared didn't want her to talk, he had no need to hear her lies and half-truths.

  The only thing he wanted from her was her anger, her outrage and this. The feel of her soft, yielding lips against his and the sweet taste of her returned kiss.

  He wanted to punish her for the hell she'd put him through. He had loved her. There had been no one else for him. She was his.

  And mere hours before exchanging their vows she'd sent her father to call off the ceremony.

  She'd done more than just wound his pride. He had gone off to batde not caring if he lived or died. The foolish risks he'd taken those first few months fighting Stephen's forces had cost him not his own life, but the lives of loyal men who had followed him into war.

  He blamed himself for being widess enough to fall prey to her charms. And he blamed her for caring so little. He would never forgive either of them.

  Lea stiffened. She struggled against his embrace, jerking her head to break their kiss. 'Please, Jared, not like this.'

  Her voice broke and he stared at the tears gathering in her eyes. Releasing her, he stepped away.

  'You didn't expect kind words and a soft touch, did you?'

  'No.' She didn't expect him to be gende. It wasn't the harshness of his words, the force of his kiss or the strength of his embrace that frightened her. It was the rage she sensed swirling around him.

  If they made love now it would be their first time together. While they'd enjoyed each other's bodies before, it had never gone further than touching and kissing.