Denise Lynn Read online

  She wanted nothing more than to be naked beneath him. Charles had found her revolting. He had hurt her, berated her for his lack of enjoyment and left her crying in their marriage bed, never to return.

  Lea knew it would not be that way with Jared. But she didn't want him to take her out of spite. As much as she wanted— needed—a child, she would not risk conceiving one from an act filled with hate and anger.

  'Then what do you want?' Jared's hard glare sliced into her heart.

  She tore her gaze away. Staring at the floor, she answered, 'A little less hatred.'

  He remained silent a moment, then cursed softly before asking, 'Where is my aunt's missive?'

  Lea sighed. It was so like Jared to bring a complete halt to something by focusing on another task. They had never been able to have a serious conversation, because as soon as it became uncomfortable for him, he cut it off.

  She opened the trunk at the foot of her bed and handed him the crumpled message. 'Here. You tell me what she meant.'

  She followed him across the chamber. Jared sat on a stool by the window opening to read the note. When he leaned forwards, resting his elbows on his knees, his hair fell across his face.

  Lea reached out instinctively to push it back. As if sensing her movement Jared glanced up at her, his brows arched in silent question of her action. She stopped herself mere inches before touching the burnished strands.

  'Forgive me.' She turned to look out over the bailey while he went back to reading Matilda's missive without comment.

  'There is nothing in here about a betrothal. What exactly did you think she meant?' he asked, waving the note in the air. 'She states that she's heard about your recent loss and that she's sending a man to protect you and Montreau from any who might see this as an opportunity to take unfair advantage of you.' He paused, then added, 'Her intent was to offer aid.'

  Lea refrained from rolling her eyes. The empress would be the last person to offer aid.

  Especially if she could gain something instead. Both Stephen and Matilda would strip this keep from her possession if they thought they could get away with the deed and not suffer loss of life or gold.

  There was no doubt in Lea's mind that Matilda was up to something that would not bode well for her. Of course she'd not tell Jared her thoughts about his aunt. She'd tried that once before and all it had gained her was a tongue-lashing and more proof that battle and honour were more important than anything else—including her.

  So, instead she agreed, 'Yes, I realise that.' Lea turned around to look at him. 'Read the last part again, Jared.'

  He shook his head, but did as she bid. His frown alerted her that his second reading gave him cause for concern.

  The sudden tightening of his jaw let her know that she hadn't imagined things. He apparently came to the same conclusion she had upon rereading it the third time.

  Jared sat up straighter. The wide-eyed look of disbelief on his face might have been humorous if the subject didn't so involve her.

  At his prolonged silence, Lea prompted, 'Well?'

  'So, my aunt thinks this man she's sending might prove useful to you in more ways than one—if you so decide this time.'

  He spoke the words 'this time' from between clenched teeth, meaning his reaction was almost the same as hers—first shock, then horror.

  Lea said, 'At first I thought nothing of it, until I reread the missive a couple times. Even then, while it seemed rather cryptic, it made litde sense to me until I realised the man she was sending might be you.'

  Jared stood up and handed the missive back to her. 'I am not going to wed you, Lea.'

  She stepped back at his bluntness, answering in the same manner, 'Thank God for that, because I have no intention of marrying anyone.'

  'Seems to me that your brother-by-marriage might have other plans on his mind.'

  Now they were back to the reason for this charade she'd begun. 'That's why I concocted a betrothal.'

  'Of all people, why to me?'

  She really had no good answer for him. 'The betrothal was all I could think of that quickly. Why you? Because I know you and you were available.' She didn't add it was because she was certain it would never happen so he was also a safe choice.

  'I am not available to you.'

  Was he going to expose her lie? 'Jared, please, I know you have every reason to despise me, but I beg of you, don't tell Villaire the truth.'

  His silence sent a cold shiver down her spine. He headed for the door without comment, making her even more wary.

  Lea knew full well that this would be her only chance to convince him to help her, so she grasped at the one thing she thought might work. 'Matilda sent you here to protect me and my keep.'

  Jared came to an instant halt. He turned to look at her. 'I find it amazing that you would suddenly place honour and duty above all else. You can't have it both ways, Lea.'

  Just as he reached up to remove the bar from across the door, someone knocked on the other side.

  Lea groaned. That's what she didn't need—someone finding her and Jared together in her chamber alone.

  'Lady Lea, are you in there?'

  Relieved at the sound of Agatha's voice, Lea replied, 'Yes. Just a moment.'

  Jared opened the door and brushed by the open-mouthed maid.

  'What are you thinking?' Agatha bustled into the room. 'Rumours of the lady's betrothal are flitting through Montreau faster than an arrow flies.'

  'That didn't take long.' Obviously Villaire had opened his mouth the minute he left the tower.

  'You know how tongues wag, yet you ensconce yourself in your bedchamber with Lord Jared?

  That will have the keep buzzing for months.'

  'He wanted to see the missive from the empress. It's not as though we were doing anything other than talking.'

  'Spoken with all the surety of a child.' Agatha crossed her arms against her chest. 'You know better. It won't matter what you were or weren't doing, people will talk.'

  'Let them talk.' It wouldn't be the first—or last—time someone talked about the lady of a keep.

  'And when word makes its way back to King Stephen?'

  Oh, good heaven. Lea's stomach clenched. She hadn't thought about that. If somehow she did manage to conceive a child and the king heard the slightest rumour that the child might be a bastard, she'd end up with a husband she didn't want.

  The older woman dropped down on to a bench, asking, 'And what about this betrothal? Is there any truth to it?'

  Lea stuck her head out of the door and checked to make certain nobody lurked in the corridor before she sat down next to Agatha. 'No. Villaire is planning something, so I lied about already being betrothed.'

  'And Lord Jared played along?'Agatha's whispered question belied the shock on her face.

  'I don't know why, but for that moment he did.'

  'For that moment?'

  'I can't be certain he'll not tell Villaire the truth.'

  'You mustn't let him do that.'

  Lea sighed. 'And how do I stop Jared from doing anything?'

  'Make the betrothal real.'

  If she hadn't been sitting down, Lea knew she'd have fallen at Agatha's suggestion. 'The man despises me.' And other than the physical attraction, she wasn't too sure she didn't feel the same towards him. Neither of them was about to become united in marriage—at least not to each other.

  'You could do worse.'

  Charles was proof enough of that. 'I am not going to take another husband.'

  'Soon it will be apparent that you are not carrying Charles's baby. When that is discovered, you won't be given a choice in the matter. So, why not take advantage of the choosing while you still can?'

  While there was some merit in Agatha's idea, Jared would be the last person Lea would choose.

  'If Warehaven were in full control of this keep, Montreau's men would find themselves embroiled in this senseless war. I'll not have it, Agatha.'

  'Montreau is neutral. Surely Lord Jar
ed wouldn't change that status.'

  'War is in his blood—it is his duty. Lord Jared had intended to wed me, then leave for battle the next morning. If he was willing to risk making his wife a widow so quickly, what makes you think he would give a second thought to Montreau?'

  'Lady Lea, you were sdll overwrought about Phillip's death at the time. Did you ever ask Lord Jared what he'd intended for Montreau?'

  Lea shook with remembered anger and fear. She'd asked him. His response had enraged and frightened her. 'Of course I did. His not-so-friendly reply was that it was his responsibility to follow orders—regardless of whether I liked them or not.'

  Before Agatha could say a word, Lea added, 'There was no sense to be gained from Phillip's death. My father would not send Montreau's men into battle for Stephen or Matilda. Neither will I. He fought to remain neutral and won. Enough lives have been lost. Enough crops have been ruined. People are starving to death for lack of food. Innocent women and children are dying because they've been left without someone to defend them. Montreau and its people are my responsibility. I could never marry a man who did not feel same. I will not jeopardise my men or their families for anything—not even love.'

  Agatha patted her shoulder. 'Child, I know how passionate you are about Montreau. But what will you do now?'

  Lea took a deep breath, seeking a measure of calm. 'I can only hope that Jared doesn't tell Villaire the truth and that the men find Charles's body quickly. After that, I don't know. I need a litde time to think of what to do next.'

  The older woman rose. 'At least you have given up the idea of conceiving a child.'

  Not wanting to irritate herself, or her maid, further, Lea remained silent. She hadn't given up on the idea, because it was a perfect solution. She just wasn't altogether certain Jared was the right man. Her feelings towards him were too volatile, too jumbled with Phillip's death, Montreau and their past.

  There would be too many emotions tearing at her if she became involved with Jared again.

  Emotions, feelings he'd never share.

  Chapter Five

  Jared stood on the windswept beach, trying to ignore the cold mist slowly drenching him with each blast of the wind.

  For three days now he and the men had combed the rocks and reeds lining Montreau's bay, searching for the body of Charles Villaire.

  Each day he'd had to shame, or browbeat, Markam Villaire into helping find his brother's body.

  Jared wasn't about to force his or Montreau's men into doing a task Villaire wouldn't perform.

  Not when the task had already been done. According to Lea, and her men, they'd combed the shoreline for miles in either direction and dragged the bay more times than they could remember.

  He had no reason to doubt their word.

  Ellison, the captain of Montreau's guard, said the lady herself had overseen every hour of the search, braving the cold, biting wind and spray longer than some of the men.

  Jared glanced down the beach and saw that, just as she had yesterday and the day before, Lea stood at the water's edge. She pulled her wool ermine-lined mantle tighter about her shoulders, tucking her chin into the fur lining at the neck.

  What was she looking for so intently? Did she not trust him or his men to do the task correctly?

  Or did concern for her missing husband keep her on the beach? What would she do if they found the body?

  One of his men stopped beating the reeds to stretch. Catching Jared's line of vision, he said, 'She must have loved him dearly.'

  Two of Montreau's men working nearby snorted until they nearly choked, then paused to catch their breath. The older one shook his head. 'No one had cause to love that man, least of all his wife.'

  After agreeing, the younger man added, 'She probably only wishes to make certain the devil isn't coming back from the dead.'

  When the men went back to work, Jared walked towards Lea. Upon hearing of her betrothal to Villaire, he'd often wondered it if had been a love match.

  In his darkest wishes he had hoped not. He hadn't wanted her to be happy—only to suffer pain and heartache. Had she? Had his wishes been granted at her expense? Suddenly the idea sickened him.

  Yes, she'd broken his trusting heart. She'd dashed his hopes for a love match.

  But heartbreaks did heal, although the scar remained, sometimes pricking at him mercilessly—

  especially of late. But the loss had eventually become bearable.

  Did he forgive her for the betrayal? No. He didn't know if he ever would. But he had learned a valuable lesson. Claims of love were not to be believed. When he decided to wed—if he ever decided to wed—it would be a match made for convenience and gain. There'd be no emotional attachment involved.

  As he drew closer she turned to look at him. Jared slowed his steps, surprised by the dark circles beneath her eyes and the paleness of her face.

  'You need to return to the keep.' He stopped alongside her to gaze out over the water.

  'No...' Shivering, she paused. When the shaking lessened, she continued, 'If my men can stand the cold, so can I.*

  'You are not a man, Lea, and you look sick.'

  'Thank you for such a prettily worded compliment.'

  He ignored her sarcasm. 'It will be rather difficult to thwart Villaire if you are confined to bed with an illness brought on by your own stubbornness.'

  'I look sick and I'm stubborn, too. You create such a lovely description of me.'

  She was obviously looking for an argument. She'd not get one from him—not now, at least. He'd gain no enjoyment from arguing with someone not up to the challenge.

  'I don't need to tell you how lovely you are. But apparently I do need to tell you to get out of the cold and mist before you take a fever.'

  She snuggled deeper into her full-length cloak. 'I'm fine. Just tired.'

  Tired? She looked exhausted. 'When was the last time you slept?'

  'What do you care?'

  'I don't,' he answered honesdy. 'But Matilda will have my head if anything befalls you.'

  Another shiver racked her body. 'Ah, yes, orders above all.'

  'What else is there?'

  'Go back to your men, Jared. I have no need of your honour to duty.'

  'Enough.' He draped an arm across her shoulders and turned her away from the bay. 'Your teeth are chattering and your temper is showing. Neither is attractive.'

  She pulled away from him. 'I'm not out here to be attractive.'

  'Why are you out here?'

  Lea turned back to look at the bay. 'To make certain I didn't miss something when we searched for the body before.'

  Something chipping away at his heart urged him to ask, 'Will you be upset if we find nothing?'

  She looked up at him. The haunted look in her eyes gave him a moment's pause.

  'No.'

  While her expression had caught him off guard, her whispered answer had sent a chill down his spine. Montreau's men had been correct—the lady obviously had little love for her deceased husband. But was it something more than just a lack of love? Did she have a reason to fear his return from the grave?

  Gently grasping her shoulder, Jared redirected her away from the water. Without giving her a choice, he led her towards the path up to the keep.

  She tried to move away from his hold. 'Leave me alone, Jared.'

  'No, Lea.' He tightened his grasp on her shoulder in warning. 'You'll either come along like a lady, or I'll carry you like a petulant child. It makes no difference to me because, either way, you are returning to the keep.'

  To his relief she didn't offer further resistance. Instead, she quickened her pace to walk ahead of him so that his arm no longer rested across her shoulders.

  'I know my way back.'

  'Since it's your land, I'm glad to hear that.'

  'You don't need to follow me.'

  She wasn't going to be rid of him that easily. 'Pretend I'm not here.'

  'If only it was that easy.'

  Since there wasn't anyt
hing he could say that she wouldn't construe as snide or nasty, he said nothing. Instead, he silentiy followed her up the hill. The climb seemed almost too much for her at times. She would take a step forwards only to wobble backwards two.

  Finally, when he was certain Lea was about to fall to the ground, he swept her into his arms, ordering, 'Hush. Don't say a word.'

  Her exhaustion was evident from the fact that she didn't struggle at all. She held herself as stiffly as she could, but thankfully, she didn't fight him.

  Once inside, she claimed, 'You've carried me far enough. Put me down, I can walk on my own.'

  Jared doubted it, but he understood Lea's desire not to be carried to her bedchamber—especially by him. He lowered her legs to the floor and released her.

  As she turned to climb the steps, he said, 'I expect Agatha to come tell me you are in bed beneath a pile of warm covers before I return to the bay.'

  The man was insufferable. Lea spun around to tell him so, only to lose her balance. She grasped at the wooden railing, but missed. The next thing she knew she was right back in his arms.

  Mortified, she pushed against his chest. 'Put me down.'

  'I didn't carry you this far only to have you break your neck on the stairs.' Without releasing her, Jared headed up towards her bedchamber.

  'I just tripped.' She tried to swing her legs over his arm, but the weight of her heavy cloak hampered her movements. 'I can walk.'

  He tightened his hold. 'Stop it before you kill us both.'

  To only add to her humiliation, Lea burst into unwanted tears. 'Please, put me down.'

  His eyes widened. 'Good God, Lea, have you slept at all these last few nights?'

  She shook her head. No, she hadn't been able to sleep. Fear that he'd tell Villaire the truth, and worry that Villaire would succeed in his quest to gain control of Montreau, had kept her awake pacing the floor in her chamber.

  How was she supposed to sleep when everything she held dear was in danger of being taken from her?

  Jared kicked the door of her chamber open and set her on her feet next to the bed. He undid the clasp at the top of her mande and tossed the sodden cloak to the floor.

  'My lady, what is—?' Agatha hurried into the chamber, coming to a halt when she saw Jared.