A Knight of Passion

chapter Twelve

The horse Bryant rode lowered its head and strained with effort of spanning the last few feet of the rise they were climbing. Arundel came into view, beyond where Riana rode between the two men-at-arms ahead of him and Sir Dunbar. Bryant gripped the reins tighter. Panic had filled her eyes when the duchess’ men ordered them to Arundel, but he had been able to whisper only a few words of warning before the men separated them. Bryant knew it wasn’t her safety but her sister’s that made her fear. She couldn’t know he had formed a plan to save the girl.

Bryant cursed his stupidity. Had he been thinking with his head instead of his cock, he would have better predicted the turn of events. His mentor might pay for that stupidity. He glanced at Sir Dunbar. The older knight lifted a questioning brow.

“You are determined to see this through?” Bryant said in a whisper, so as not to be heard by the half a dozen warriors cresting the hill behind them.

“I have come too far to turn back.”

“If threatened, the duchess will ensure we do not leave Arundel alive,” Bryant said. “Once we are safely away, we can deal with her as we please.” Anger shot through him. And he did plan to deal with her and her husband. “I must persuade Her Grace that she wants Riana gone—at least for now.”

Sir Dunbar chuckled. “Have you a magician to accomplish that miracle?”

“That is not the most difficult part.” Bryant cast him a sidelong glance. “We must kidnap the younger Lady Ellis.”

A corner of Dunbar’s mouth twitched. “I never kidnap a lady I do not intend to keep.”

“If you can persuade my wife, she is yours.”

He grimaced. “No woman is worth that much trouble.”

“Can you do it?”

“I will need time.”

“When we arrive, I will distract the duchess with—”

A man-at-arms appeared at Bryant’s side and he fell silent.

Twenty minutes later, Bryant stepped aside for Riana to precede him and Sir Dunbar into the duchess’ private parlour at Arundel. The warrior escorting them grasped Riana’s arm and started to shove her through the doorway. Bryant seized him and shoved him against the wall.

“Touch her again and I will kill you.”

He sneered. “She is nothing more—”

Bryant slammed his fist into the man’s belly. He doubled over, wheezing hard. Bryant turned and took two steps to where Riana stared. She turned frightened eyes to him and his chest tightened. Damn the duchess and her spies. If he found out who had reported that Riana had gone to the prison, he would split them from sternum to cock. He would also take Riana over his knee for being foolish enough to go to the prison…then he would kiss her reddened arse and every other part of her until she begged him to f*ck her so hard she couldn’t see straight. Until then, he prayed she would trust him.

She grasped the front of his shirt. “He is right,” she whispered. “This was a mistake. The duchess—”

“I can deal with the duchess.” He gently disengaged her fingers from the gambeson, then guided her to the couch inside the room and eased her onto the cushion.

She rose. “I must see my sister.”

Riana started to rise again, but he firmly eased her back onto the sofa and squatted so that they were eye-to-eye. “Riana, we must talk before—”

The door opened and the duchess entered. Bryant rose as her gaze moved from Sir Dunbar to him to Riana. Riana stood and a corner of the duchess’ mouth twisted upwards.

“You disappoint me, Riana.”

Bryant slid an arm around Riana’s waist and gave a deferential bow of his head. “Forgive her, Your Grace. I understand that I am not the husband you would have chosen.”

She snorted in derision. “The marriage is a farce.”

“Nay.” All eyes turned to Sir Dunbar. “The marriage is quite legal. I witnessed the vows.”

She turned her cold stare to him. “You would stand against me?”

Dunbar shrugged. “They are young and in love. Who is to stand in their way?”

Bryant detected the tremor in Riana’s body and gave her a reassuring squeeze.

“You expect me to believe such drivel?” the duchess said to Sir Dunbar.

His expression hardened. “Why not? You believed I was easily eliminated.”

She shifted her narrowed eyes to Riana. “What lies has the bitch been spreading?”

Dunbar smiled. “Nothing we did not already know.”

She shot him a withering look, then said to Bryant, “What do you want?”

“I have what I want.”

He shifted his gaze to Riana, who turned wary eyes on him. The need to take her in his arms and allay her fears rushed to the surface, but he dared not allow his expression to give away his thoughts. He returned his attention to the duchess.

“I expect no dowry. Riana is mine, all she knows is mine. I need nothing more.”

Riana’s head jerked up. Bryant kept his gaze locked with the duchess’ and silently willed his wife to remain quiet.

“You have made a bad bargain,” the duchess snapped. “She knows nothing. She owns nothing—will never own anything.”

“What do you mean?” Riana asked.

The duchess looked at her. “Did your mother not tell you? She is with child.”

Riana gasped.

“If she bears a son, Fyvie Castle will belong to him.” A malicious gleam entered her eyes when she addressed Bryant. “You will never lay claim to Ellis land.”

He smiled. “I am well-skilled at gaining land. I have no need of my wife’s property.”

She pursed her lips. “I cannot be certain this marriage was consummated.”

“Your men interrupted the…consummation,” Sir Dunbar said.

“I am told Riana had Sir Bryant’s cock in her mouth. That is not a true consummation.”

“As true as any other.” His mentor winked in Bryant’s direction. “If Your Grace will excuse me, I have business to attend to.”

She spared him a glance, then he bowed and turned.

Once the door had clicked shut behind Sir Dunbar, Bryant said, “I understand this is a shock, but you did not expect Riana to remain in your house forever? We will return home tonight, she, her sister, and I.”

“Her sister?” the duchess burst out.

Riana tensed, but Bryant gave her a warning squeeze. “You understand that Riana cannot bear to be parted from the girl.”

“She remains here. And as for Riana, my husband will decide if this marriage can be recognised.”

“I am sorry you were not present,” Bryant said. “Perhaps then you would be assured the marriage is legal. Father Vaughn will produce the marriage contract. Of course, Riana was previously married, so we can offer no proof the marriage has been consummated. As there were no witnesses…” He paused for affect.

Her brow furrowed then, as he’d hoped, comprehension lit her gaze. “I only want what is best for Riana,” she said.

He canted his head in agreement.

“If anyone challenges the marriage…” Her shoulders rose and fell in a helpless shrug. “My husband will be thorough in assuring everything is legal.”

“What might we do to satisfy him—and anyone else who might choose to interfere?”

She appeared to give the question thought, then said, “It is unorthodox, but if there was a witness…” Her words trailed off.

Riana’s sharp intake of breath was like a knife to his heart. He considered changing course, but remembered Sir Dunbar, already risking his life to rescue the younger Lady Ellis. To quit now was to ensure his death. There was no turning back. Bryant looked down at his wife. Tears shimmered in her eyes. His heart twisted. She would thank him for saving her sister, but would she forgive him for inviting the duchess to watch while he f*cked her?