A Knight of Passion

chapter Twenty-One

Fury even darker than the first wave rolled over Bryant. His wife had fled at the first sign of trouble, then he’d arrived at Arundel to find another man’s hands on her. Lord Camden’s cock was firmly inside his hose, but Bryant wasn’t such a fool as to have missed the possessive way the man gripped Riana’s arm. The earl would have spread her legs before even leaving the keep. Then, between Arundel and Castle Barr, he would have bent her over a rock and f*cked her arse. The only question Bryant hadn’t answered was whether Riana welcomed the man’s attentions.

Only last night she had acquiesced to Bryant with the passion and willingness of a woman in love. His jaw tensed. Perhaps Sir Dunbar was right—women didn’t change.

Riana snapped her head in his direction and he realised his fingers had tightened around her arm without his volition. They reached the postern door and he opened it, allowing her to precede them.

Men-at-arms with the crests of Lord Fostar, Lord Camden, and the Duke of Arundel filled the great hall. The duke’s men stood in quiet groups throughout the room. Bryant wasn’t surprised they were subdued. They wanted the duke to be dealt with so that they could quickly distance themselves from the traitor they had served.

“Lord Camden.” A man near the table hurried forward. He met them half way across the room. “There is a maid who may know where the duke has gone.”

“What has she to say?” the earl demanded.

The man shook his head. “She refuses to speak with anyone but you.”

“My wife and I can await you in her former bedchamber,” Sir Bryant said. “That will give her time to gather her belongings.”

“You will not go anywhere,” Lord Camden ordered.

Bryant canted his head in acknowledgement. “Of course not, my lord, but surely you understand I would rather Riana was not in the fray.”

The men showed no signs of breaking into a mob, but Bryant couldn’t be sure the duke didn’t have some men still loyal to him. If things turned ugly, he didn’t want Riana in the middle of a fight. Not to mention the nearly overwhelming compulsion to get her alone and whip her to within an inch of her life—then kiss every inch of her body.

“I will instruct the guards that no one is to leave,” Sir Fostar said. “Our first duty is to find the duke.”

“It will be your neck if they leave.” Lord Camden turned to the waiting man and they strode towards the kitchen.

Lord Camden disappeared into the sea of men and Sir Fostar faced Bryant. “Be quick. The earl will take Lady Ellis when he returns.”

“But I gave you the information that allowed you to bring the sentence of forfeiture against the duke and duchess,” she said.

“You?” Sir Bryant cut in.

She nodded.

He snorted a mirthless laugh. “Lady, you are a fountain of information.”

She shot him a look that should have rendered him to ash. “Indeed, sir. I was in a unique position to gather information.”

A mental image flashed of her positioned in front of the informant as his cock pumped into her mouth. Bryant seized her wrist.

“Can we simply ride out of the gates?” Sir Dunbar interrupted.

“Leave by the quickest way you can,” Sir Fostar said.

“The guards will report you have allowed us to escape.” Riana said.

Bryant tightened his grip on her wrist. “Shall we leave by the passageway Siusan used to make her escape?”

Riana’s mouth thinned. “My lord, if you regret coming here, leave.” She yanked free of his hold and faced Sir Fostar. “I cannot allow you to risk your neck for me.”

The older man’s face softened. “Lord Camden holds no sway over me. But if he leaves with you, Riana, we cannot stop him, save by battle.”

She nodded, then faced Bryant. “There is no need for you to risk your life either, my lord. I can fend for myself.”

Her pictured her fending for herself against a band of men in the Scottish Highland wilds, and the terror he’d experienced upon learning she’d left Chilgoriam dug deeper into the gaping wound in his soul. He opened his mouth to threaten a beating if she didn’t willingly follow him now—and every day for the rest of her life—but stopped. Realisation rolled over him like an avalanche. She could have escaped with Siusan and Glen to France without thought for the next assassin the duchess would send to kill him. Instead, she had returned to this hell—to save him.

She loved him.

It hadn’t occurred to him her feelings could have grown to such proportions, and yet.

He gave a mental laugh. Just as it hadn’t occurred to her that the last twenty-four hours had been the worst of his life with the fear that she lay in some dark, remote place, bleeding, or worse, dead.

She didn’t realise he loved her.

And how could she know? Only a few days ago, he had come to her bed by accident, then married her with the intention of using her to control the duchess.

Bryant grasped her hand and brought it to his lips. She stood frozen when he pressed her slim fingers to his mouth.

“Lady, the hounds of hell could not tear me away from you.”

Her lips parted in surprise. “My lord—” She broke off, moisture appearing in her eyes.

“We must hurry,” he said. “Or the hounds may have a go at me, after all.”

Her eyes cleared. “Aye.” She glanced at Sir Fostar. “You will be safe?”

“Sir Andrew will stand by me.”

Just as Bryant knew he would stand by her.

* * * *

Five minutes later, they reached the alcove on the north-western corner of the castle where the passageway was. Riana pulled back the tapestry that hid the niche and motioned Sir Bryant and Sir Dunbar inside.

Her heart raced. Sir Bryant had come for her…had admitted publicly that he cared for her. She couldn’t let him risk his life without knowing she was not longer his wife.

Sir Dunbar slipped past her, then Sir Bryant. Riana grasped his arm. “My lord, I must tell you—”

He yanked her to him and crushed his mouth against hers. He plunged his tongue inside. The taste of him, salty, sweet, and male assaulted her. Riana’s head reeled. She sparred with his tongue, starved for him. Her core clenched and moisture flooded her channel. By all that was holy, if Sir Dunbar weren’t here, she would beg him to f*ck her. Sir Bryant pulled back, breathing hard. Riana clung to him, her heart thundering in her breast.

He gave her a shake. “You will never again run away.”

She blinked his green eyes into focus.

“Do you understand?” he demanded.

She nodded. And meant it.

Minutes later, they exited the passageway. Morning sun streamed down in yellow shafts past fast-moving clouds. They had just reached the trees when the pounding of boots on moist ground rose from around the walls. The three halted and Riana jerked her gaze to Sir Bryant, who exchanged a glance with Sir Dunbar.

“Apparently, Lord Camden is determined to have your wife,” Sir Dunbar drawled.

Bryant nodded and snaked a hand around Riana, pushing her behind him as he turned. The earl appeared from around the castle with a dozen men-at-arms. Fear ripped through Riana. The duchess walked alongside him.

Riana grasped Sir Bryant’s arm. “My lord.” Muscle tensed beneath her fingers.

“Quiet,” he ordered.

The earl halted in front of them, the duchess at his side and his men behind him.

Malice glittered in the older woman’s eyes. “It is just as I said, she is running.”

Anger swept through Riana. She stepped from behind Sir Bryant. He reached for her, but she sidestepped him. “It was not I who fraternised with Lord Alasdair.”

The duchess’ brows shot up. “What do you call spreading your legs for one of the Disinherited?”

“I call it being your whore.”

“Riana,” Sir Bryant growled.

She kept her gaze on the duchess. “It was not I who welcomed Lord Alistar into Arundel, then plotted with him to finance Balliol.”

The duchess gave a nasty laugh. “You expect anyone to believe your lies? You wish to better your station in life. What better way than to ingratiate yourself with an earl?”

“I am not satisfied to f*ck every animal you send my way, therefore I must be a traitor?” Riana snorted.

The duchess faced Lord Camden. “Her flight proves she has something to hide.”

“You are mistaken,” Sir Bryant said. “Riana is returning with me to Chilgoriam, as agreed.”

The duchess stiffened. “I would not allow an unmarried woman to travel alone with only men-at-arms.”

Riana whirled to face Sir Bryant. “My lord, I must tell—”

“We are betrothed,” he cut in, his gaze locked on the duchess, “at your and the duke’s behest.”

Riana barely stifled a gasp. He knew their marriage was annulled? How? Her mind raced. Because he had caught Glen and Siusan, learnt the truth—then come for her. Were Glen and Siusan safe? Gratitude shoved aside fear. Sir Bryant would, had, protected them—tears sprang to her eyes—and he would die for his chivalry.

“Betrothed?” Lord Camden said. “You called her your wife.”

A predatory smile spread across Sir Bryant’s face. “There was little difference, my lord, when your hands were on her.”

Anger twisted the earl’s face, but the duchess interjected, “Riana is to marry Sir Ross.”

“You betrothed her to a man suspected of supporting King Edward III?” Sir Bryant asked.

Riana started. Sir Ross, suspected of collaborating with Balliol? Of course. What better way for the duchess to maintain control of Ellis land than to ally Riana with one of her own kind? But how had Sir Bryant known—and why was his answer so ready? Because, she realised, he knew about the sentence of forfeiture against the duke.

Triumph filled the duchess’ eyes. “I was unaware Sir Ross consorted with Balliol. But that explains why my husband commanded me to hand Riana over to Lord Camden. What better proof she is a traitor?”

“The sentence of forfeiture strips your husband of any authority,” Sir Bryant said. “His commands are meaningless.”

Riana’s heart pounded. Was it possible Sir Bryant might disentangle them from the duchess’ web?

“The decree will be rescinded once my husband proves he did not plot with the Disinherited,” the duchess replied.

Sir Bryant acknowledged this with an incline of his head. “Until that time, Riana will remain with me.”

“She will not,” Lord Camden cut in. “His Grace may not have the power to detain her, but I do. Lady Ellis goes with me.”

Bryant glanced at the dozen men-at-arms standing behind the earl, then met the man’s gaze. “Nay, my lord, she will not.”

“Insolent fool. I will take Lady Ellis and throw you in prison.”

Riana riveted her gaze on the men-at-arms who appeared from the trees. Within seconds, at least two hundred men bearing the crest of Sir Bryant and Sir Dunbar stood near their lords.

Lord Camden glanced at the men, then addressed Sir Bryant, “You challenge me?”

Riana stepped close enough that only Sir Bryant could hear her whisper, “My lord, I am not worth the lives of so many.”

A gentle smile curved his mouth upwards. “You are worth at least the life of one.”

She frowned, but before she could comprehend his meaning, he eased her aside and levelled his gaze on the earl. “Aye, my lord, I challenge you.”