A Knight of Passion

chapter Five

Fury rammed through Bryant. Using Riana as a whore wasn’t enough. The duchess would have the young woman murder for her. He had wondered why Riana had emptied the wine goblet into the chamber pot. He was gratified to understand she wouldn’t chance him drinking the deadly wine by mistake. She was no murderess, at least not at heart.

The duchess, however, schemed to murder his mentor, the man who had been more of a father to him than his own father. Twenty-three years ago, Bryant’s father had torn him from his mother’s arms at the age of seven and given him to Dunbar as his page. Now Bryant was a knight to be reckoned with—though he wasn’t powerful enough to stand against the Duke or Duchess of Arundel.

Bryant’s word wouldn’t be enough to bring her to justice for conspiring to murder, but Sir Dunbar would believe him and, if the older knight saw the wisdom in the plan now forming in Bryant’s mind, together, they might wield some power over the duke and duchess.

Five minutes later, Bryant entered Sir Dunbar’s room.

Dunbar cursed and propped himself up in bed when Bryant lit a candle. “‘Tis the middle of the night.”

“I can leave and take with me the information about the attempt on your life,” Bryant said.

Dunbar threw back the covers and sat up. “Who have I offended this time?”

Bryant lowered himself into the chair to the left of the bed. “The Duchess of Arundel.”

Dunbar’s brows rose in question, and Bryant told him all he’d overheard between her and Riana.

Ten minutes later, Bryant had finished the tale and he leant back in his chair as Dunbar gulped the last of the wine he had poured.

He set the goblet on the night stand beside the bed and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You are damned fortunate the wench did not feed you the poison just for good measure—and I am fortunate to have caught the eye of that serving maid. Had she not brought me to these chambers, I would have certainly f*cked the whore, then drank the poison she fed me.” He grinned. “Your life for mine is a fair trade after all, the times I’ve saved your life.”

Bryant recognised the amusement in the comment, but gave a serious nod. He would gladly give his life for the older knight.

“This is the work of Shrewsbury,” Dunbar said. “With me out of the way, he could take control of my forces and seize my land—mayhap yours as well. His army combined with mine would give him a seat at Sir Andrew’s table, and an ear with David once the pup takes his place as king. Curse Shrewsbury,” Dunbar muttered. “The bastard made a pact with that bitch—they are well suited.” Dunbar snorted. “She likely used your little bitch to seal the deal.”

“She is no bitch” Bryant replied.

“She is a whore.”

“I intend to marry her.”

“Marry her?” Dunbar blurted. “Have you gone mad?”

“I am a bastard,” Bryant replied. “Who am I to judge her station in life?”

“Your station will be greatly enhanced once you marry a proper lady—something you should have done five years ago.”

“She is a proper lady.”

“Her title is of feudal rank, not peerage. You will be little better off than you are now.”

Bryant lifted a brow. “Peerage?”

“Your father expects you to marry well.”

Bryant gave a mirthless laugh. “I care nothing for what he expects.”

“He has done well by you,” Dunbar replied.

“Nothing he does has ever been out of love for me—or my mother.”

“You will not forgive him, will you?”

Bryant met his gaze squarely. “Why should I?”

“He did not know she was sickly. I knew your mother. She was skilled at keeping her secrets.”

“He left her in that hovel.”

“Not a hovel, lad.”

“Not the lavish warmth his wife enjoyed,” Bryant shot back.

Dunbar studied him. “Are you certain you do not mean to hurt him by marrying this girl?”

“I would not give him even that satisfaction.”

“You could take her as a mistress. That would be paradise compared to her life here.”

“That would sentence her to the same fate my mother suffered. No, my lord, I will marry her.” Bryant's heart softened. He recognised the old knight’s attempt to ensure his future, and gentled his tone. “I must take her sister with us. That is the only way she will agree to the marriage.”

Sir Dunbar’s brows shot up. “You cannot believe the duke will let the girl go.”

“Do not forget, his wife attempted to kill you.”

Dunbar laughed. “You overestimate my importance, especially when compared to that girl’s beauty. Also, their stepfather still lives. He, too, has control of the girls’ lives. You might save the older sister by marrying her, but that gives you no power over the younger. There is also the matter of Castle Fyvie,” he added. “The duchess will not want the land fall to you.”

Bryant nodded. “But consider, Neas. If the plotting of your murder is any indication of what she has coerced Lady Ellis into, imagine what other secrets Riana might know. If I offered her protection, she would change her allegiance without hesitation, and her secrets would become ours.”

The older man was silent for a long moment. “The duchess favours our self-proclaimed king Edward Balliol. Perhaps there is something that might incriminate them enough to count them among the Disinherited.” He paused. “If you marry Lady Ellis and she lies to us—or does not know anything of great import—the duchess will not rest until we are dead.”

“You were as good as dead when you entered Arundel,” Bryant said.

Dunbar shot him a recriminating look. “The girl has more reason to lie than to tell the truth.”

“Not with the right incentive.”

“Miscalculate, and you accomplish far more than a bad marriage. Your father cannot protect you against the Duke of Arundel.”

Bryant’s jaw tensed. “When have I ever called upon my father for help?”

“In that, you are a fool.” Dunbar rose. “So, you intend to bind the house of Arundel to your own by marrying the duchess’ whore? You had better have bollocks, lad. You will either end up dead, or a very powerful man.”

Bryant smiled. “I prefer the latter.”