A Knight of Passion

chapter Seventeen

Is his faRiana argued with Siusan, but to no avail. Her younger sister insisted they visit the chapel before the evening meal. Thankfully, there was no priest in residence, and Riana slipped into the back pew of the four pews on the left of the dimly-lit room.

“You will not pray?” Siusan asked.

“Not today.”

Her sister smiled. “God will not fault you for protecting me.” Siusan placed a kiss on her cheek. “Neither will Sir Bryant.”

Riana startled at the unexpected insight, but before she could respond, Siusan had turned away and was walking down the aisle.

“Mine to love.”

In the hour since he’d said the words, Riana had played them over and over in her mind. Lit candles at the altar sent light skimming across small, stained glass windows on the left and right, lending the cut glass an eerie sense of animation. Riana remained motionless as Siusan stopped in front of the dais, crossed herself and knelt.

Were Sir Bryant’s words a declaration of love? A flutter closed around Riana’s heart with memory of the heat in his gaze in the instant before he’d left the room. She had the odd sense that, despite the fact he’d lain between her legs twice, he was telling her that his true claiming of her was yet to come. Was it possible he saw her as more than the whore she had become?

He had married her believing she intended to murder his friend. Was Siusan right? Did he understand? Riana allowed herself to relax against the back of the pew. Whatever his feelings, he had proven he was willing to protect her and Siusan. Perhaps Sir Dunbar was right and the duchess feared their combined forces. Was that why she had released them? Or was it the fact that their mother was with child? Sorrow wound through Riana. Why had her mother not told her? If a son was born, he, instead of Riana, would be heir to Fyvie Castle. What kind of man would he grow to be? Her heart went cold. He would be just like his father, a puppet for the duke and duchess—if they survived the sentence of forfeiture Lord Fostar had planned for them.

Tears sprang to her eyes. Soon, the Duke and Duchess of Arundel would be penniless and without authority to harm anyone. Siusan would marry and bear children. She would have a good life.

What of her? Riana came up short. Would Sir Bryant want children? What would it be like to feel his child growing inside her? A tremor rippled through her. What would her son think of the fact that his mother was a whore? What of their daughters? Riana bowed her head. If God was kind, He would allow her to keep that secret. Would Sir Bryant keep her secret? She recalled his gentle touch. He wasn’t a cruel man.

Siusan rose, crossed herself again, and started back down the aisle. Riana stood and, when Siusan reached her, linked arms with her. They reached the chapel door and Riana glanced back at the dais. The Christ hung behind the altar, head downcast, eyes upturned. Something seemed to flicker in his eyes. Riana started, before realising it was nothing more than the play of candlelight against the painted irises. She let the door close behind her and they walked along the path leading to the castle.

Siusan gave a cry and Riana halted at sight of Glen emerging from the small group of trees ahead on the left. Siusan pulled free of her and raced across the short distance to him. She threw her arms around his neck. He hugged her close for a long moment before she straightened.

“You are well!” Siusan cried.

He nodded, eyes soft, then turned his gaze to Riana as she stepped up to them. She hugged him close, her tears bathing his shirt. He drew back and smiled.

“How?” Riana asked.

He reached inside his shirt and withdrew a letter. Riana took the paper. She spotted the duke’s seal and fear streaked through her. Glen grasped her trembling hand and squeezed. She looked at him. A corner of his mouth lifted in encouragement. Siusan leaned in close. Riana considered sending her into the castle, but didn't. Siusan was no child. She should understand her fate. Riana broke the seal and read.

Riana,

I will not speak of your treachery. Instead, I will give you the opportunity to set things right. As you can see, I have freed Glen. This is only the first of my mercies. I also release Siusan. She may stay with Sir Bryant and we will dower her. All this we will do, if you return home. Glen will escort you to Arundel, where you will immediately wed Sir Ross. Do not fear the sham of a marriage to Sir Bryant will prevent this. I have already dealt with the matter.

“She cannot annul your marriage,” Siusan cried as Riana read the last lines.

You will leave Arundel a legally married woman and live with Sir Ross until it is time to occupy Fyvie Castle.

The Duchess of Arundel

“How dare she?” Siusan seethed.

Riana looked at her, surprised at the edge in her sister’s voice. “She dares because she can. Just as she can keep her hold on you, if she pleases.” Riana looked at Glen and sadness entered his eyes as he nodded in agreement. She grasped his arm. “You are free. There is nothing she can do to us now. I will speak with Sir Bryant.”

Glen nodded, relief obvious in his eyes.

“Sir Bryant will protect us,” Siusan said with confidence.

Riana nodded. After all, he’d said she was his to spread her legs, his to f*ck and his to love.

* * * *

“Murder?” Riana repeated. She stared at Sir Bryant, who sat beside her at the head of the table in the great hall.

The din created by the men gathered for the evening meal nearly drowned out the word, but he smiled gently, and said, “The assassin was unsuccessful.”

She envisioned the downward slice of the knife that had grazed his arm instead of plunging into the muscled flesh between his shoulder blades as intended. She dropped her gaze to his left arm, wrapped with a snow-white cloth. Not a spot of blood shone through. Whoever had tended him was skilled.

“How was he able to enter Chilgoriam Castle?” Riana couldn’t keep the tremor from her voice.

“Many come and go from Chilgoriam Castle,” he replied. “Sir Dunbar and I have combined our forces and we share men and resources. That makes the keep a focal point for a fifty mile radius.”

“Your guards cannot keep out a murderer?” she demanded, then remembered that Glen, too, had entered the castle unmolested.

“Unlike Arundel, Chilgoriam draws few murderers,” Sir Bryant replied. “Our enemies prefer an all-out attack.” He grinned. “I am a bastard, not a nobleman.”

A bastard who has angered a noblewoman.

Riana’s stomach twisted. The duchess was behind the attempt on his life. She might have meant for him to die, but she knew that if her assassin failed, Riana would understand that next time he wouldn’t.

“I am not so easily killed.”

Sir Bryant’s deep voice pulled Riana from her thoughts.

“The duchess will not find me an easy victim.” He laid his hand on hers and squeezed.

She looked down at his larger hand covering hers on the table beside her plate. He was trying to comfort her, let her know that he would protect her as well as himself. But she knew better. The duchess would not stop until Riana complied—or Sir Bryant was dead. Riana would not let him give his life for her.

She startled from the vision of a burial mound covering Sir Bryant’s powerful body. The serving girl standing beside her snapped into focus and Riana realised the girl had said something.

“The pears,” the girl said, and Riana shifted her gaze to the tray she carried. “Mrs Carpenter made them especially for you. You do like poached pears?” she asked.

Riana became aware of Sir Bryant’s scrutiny and took a whiff of the fruit. “They smell heavenly,” she said.

The girl beamed and spooned a healthy portion onto Riana’s plate, then did the same for Siusan, who sat beside her. Riana took a bite of the pears, keeping her attention on her plate as the girl then reached between her and Sir Bryant to fill his plate. The syrupy sweetness slid across her tongue just as she’d known it would. Sir Bryant fell into conversation with Sir Dunbar, and Riana chewed slowly, afraid the tears she’d barely kept at bay would rise before she could stop them. The fact she wouldn’t see him again after tomorrow morning seemed like a bad dream. Desire to confess all to him rushed to the surface. Riana forced back the idea. She wouldn’t sacrifice him simply because she couldn’t bear to leave him.

“You do not look pleased.” Sir Dunbar’s voice brought her head up. “You are not happy to be away from Arundel?” he asked.

“I cannot believe my good fortune,” she answered honestly.

Sir Bryant smiled. “It is my good fortune.”

She stilled. An echo of the words my good fortune was followed by memory of the words mine to love. By all that was holy, he did care for her.