A Knight of Passion (15 page)

“I will send men with you.”

“I have my own men.”

Riana’s heart fell. If Sir Fostar sent an escort, her chances of escape decreased.

A shout went up from the battlements. Lord Camden halted, and they all turned.

A man appeared on the battlements facing the bailey. “Riders,” he shouted.

Riana’s heart pounded. Could Sir Andrew be coming? This wouldn’t be the first time he’d taken part in a
sentence of forfeiture
, and given that this decree was made against such a powerful duo as the Duke and Duchess of Arundel, he might want to be present.

Two men on horseback rode through the gates. Riana’s breath froze in her lungs. Sir Dunbar rode alongside Sir Bryant. Lord Camden cursed under his breath. Riana broke from staring at the man who had been her husband for three days and looked at the earl. Did he know that she had wedded Sir Bryant? A prickle crept up her neck. She looked back at Sir Bryant to find his eyes locked on her, his features hard with fury.

Panic seized her. She tried to slow her pounding heart, but when Sir Bryant and Sir Dunbar stopped and dismounted, her knees weakened and she feared they would give way. They handed their reins to a young boy standing nearby and started towards them. Her stomach knotted as they neared.

“Lord Camdem,” Sir Dunbar addressed the earl, then, “Fostar.”

Sir Bryant’s eyes settled on Lord Camden. “Unhand my wife, my lord.”

“Wife?” He looked to Sir Fostar. “What is this?”

The knight looked at her. “Lady Ellis?”

Riana tamped down on the tremble in her stomach. “Three days ago, Sir Bryant and I were wed.”

Lord Camden hadn’t known of the marriage, so couldn’t know of the annulment. Neither could Sir Bryant know. What would he do once he learnt he’d risked his life for a woman who was no longer his wife?

“My lords,” Sir Fostar said, “let us go the great hall.”

Lord Camden hesitated and fear jolted her when Sir Bryant shifted his hand to rest on his sword hilt.

Sir Dunbar spoke. “In all this commotion, our men-at-arms could misunderstand and barge into the bailey.”

“You brought men-at-arms?” the earl demanded.

“Two hundred and fifty men,” he replied. “We could not travel unescorted with Lady Ellis.”

Lord Camden’s eyes narrowed on Sir Dunbar. “I do not care for threats.”

“No threat, my lord. Our men have no way of knowing that we are talking in this pleasant manner. Before we could correct the mistake, too much blood would be shed.”

“He is right,” Sir Fostar said. “Emotions are high with the
sentence of forfeiture
against the duke and duchess.”

“
Sentence of forfeiture
,” Sir Dunbar murmured. He shifted his gaze to Riana. “A shame you chose today to retrieve your belongings from Arundel.”

Something in his voice gave her pause, but she was given no chance to consider. Sir Bryant addressed Lord Camden again. “The great hall, my lord?”

Anger flicked across Lord Camden’s face, but he nodded, then started to turn.

“My lord.”

The earl looked at him and Sir Bryant glanced meaningfully at his hand still gripping Riana’s arm. His mouth thinned, but he released her.

Sir Bryant gently cupped her elbow and started them towards the castle. Warmth from his fingers burnt through the thin sleeve of her dress. She swallowed in an effort to quiet the quiver that threatened to flip her stomach. Confess, her mind screamed, but she dared not. Sir Dunbar had threatened a clash between their men if Lord Camden didn’t release her. How many men would die if Sir Bryant decided he must fight to wed her a second time?

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 fucked 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 fuck 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 fuck 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.”