Lord of a Thousand Nights (17 page)

Ian noted an unfortunate emphasis on the word “living.” He also recognized the tone, and the undercurrent of danger flowing through it. Over on the chair, David went very still.

During the months since Ian had saved Morvan's life, they had never before referred to that night eight years ago in that Windsor garden.

“It was long ago, Morvan, and I was little more than a boy,” Ian said, while he calculated his odds of surviving if he and Morvan met with swords. About even, he guessed. If Morvan killed him first over this old insult, it would certainly settle things nicely with the Grahams. He wondered if Morvan were weighing that possibility.

“Aye. Long ago,” Morvan said, turning with a vague smile. “Well, David, we have one hell of a problem here, don't we?”

“We do at that. Short of Ian conveniently falling to Aymer's sword or ax, it will not end tomorrow, and I do not think Aymer will best him.”

“I thank you for the confidence,” Ian said.

“I have no doubt that Reyna is trying to convince her kinsmen that they have misunderstood, but it will not be accepted as truth. As Anna pointed out, women who are raped will often deny it to avoid the shame and scorn,” David said. “So let us assume that convincing the Grahams of their error is unlikely. We must then deal with the insult itself.” He looked not to Ian, but to Morvan.

“Aye,” Morvan said. “And there is an easy solution to that insult.”

“An old solution. Time-honored,” David agreed.

“With no real cost, and a certain usefulness in other matters,” Morvan added thoughtfully.

“Duncan will have no choice but to agree. Aymer too. And if they had hoped to plot some future mischief, it will neatly corral them there,” David continued.

Both men simultaneously shifted their gazes to Ian.

They smiled.

Ian looked at Morvan and then at David, and then at Morvan again. Revelation struck. “Oh, hell. Nay.”

“At least consider it,” David said.

“
Nay
. Better if you asked me to fall to Aymer's sword, Morvan.”

“Nonsense. She is a lovely woman.”

“She is disobedient and troublesome and manipulative. She may well be a murderess.”

“Just days ago you were convinced she was not,” David reminded him.

“I have reconsidered the evidence.”

Morvan leaned against the edge of the window niche. “I'm sure that you have guessed that it has been my intention to give you land when this was over.”

Ian hadn't guessed that at all. Most men would consider helping him return to England sufficient payment for the debt of their life.

“I had been thinking of lands to the southeast, but perhaps this makes more sense. You took this keep. You are known, and the strategic location will require a strong vassal. Graham lands begin a mere half-mile east, and the Armstrong holdings of Clivedale start five miles north. This keep was built to guard those borders.”

“Is there no family to whom these lands must be returned?”
Ian asked. What Morvan had said pricked at his memory in a provocative way.

“Black Lyne Keep and the surrounding farms were never enfiefed. A castellan held them.”

“I had assumed that you would give the free lands to your younger sons.”

“There are properties enough here and in Brittany. Nay, perhaps there is gold in this problem, Ian. Sir Robert of Kelso's testament can present difficulties even after I retake Harclow. Lady Reyna's father or future husband may make claims in her name. If they petition through the courts it could drag on for years, and if they use an army, that is just more opportunity for long conflict. If I give you the lands and you marry the lady, the title is clear and secure. Are you willing?”

“If I refuse?”

“The lands are still yours if you swear fealty to me. We will do it as soon as I have Harclow again.”

“And if you do not retake Harclow?”

“Then they are still yours through the lady, if you wed her.”

Ian considered this astonishing offer. Land. His. Not extensive or rich, but his to hold. And Reyna. The notion of being tied to her filled him with a strange joy and a peculiar dread.

“Are you willing?” Morvan asked again. “I am willing. The lady may not be.”

Chapter ELEVEN

R
eyna entered the solar where Ian, David, and Morvan waited for her. She was glad for the excuse to escape her father and brother.

Twelve years had not blunted the fear she felt of Duncan and the darker emotions that Aymer evoked, but she had not let them see it. It had infuriated them to realize that they no longer dealt with a cowering, biddable girl. She felt sure that if Christiana and Anna had not been present, Aymer would have struck her at several points in the heated conversation.

Morvan Fitzwaryn greeted her courteously. “We did not meet properly, my lady. As a boy, I knew of your late husband. He was respected throughout the region as an honorable knight.”

She studied this new man. He was in his early thirties, with sparkling black eyes like his sister Christiana's. It occurred to her that she was surrounded by three different but equally compelling examples of male beauty.

“Is it a particular conceit of yours, Sir Morvan, that
only handsome men serve you? An identifying mark for your retinue, rather like the colors of a lord's livery?”

He didn't even blink. “Aye, my lady. And I insist that all the archers be blond and the foot soldiers dark-haired. Ian's company didn't match, which is why I sent them here.”

She laughed and he smiled back. Despite their humorous banter, she felt a dark mood in the room. It emanated from Ian, out of view behind her at the hearth.

“Lady Reyna, I'm sure you will agree that it would be best if the duel between your brother and Ian were stopped,” Morvan said.

“I do agree. I just spent an hour trying to convince Aymer of his error. However, my father and brother do not take any woman's counsel, least of all mine.”

“Since you are a widow, there is, of course, no way to prove that you were not misused. However, if Ian meets your brother, he will kill him. I know Ian's skill, and the duel will end with Aymer's death. We would like to avoid that. Wouldn't you?”

“Of course. But as I said, they will not hear me when I explain.”

“There is another alternative that will satisfy them.”

“I do not think there is.”

“Of course there is. If a man seduces or rapes a woman, her honor and that of her family are regained if he marries her.”

She suddenly felt small and vulnerable and outnumbered in a way that Duncan and Aymer could never equal.

“I do not wish to marry Sir Ian. I am sorry if that un-hinges your plans.” She sensed Ian's spirit quake behind her in reaction to her announcement. “You men make your wars and feuds, and we women become pawns to
resolve them. I have already been used once in such a game, which is quite enough for any life.”

“It is the lot of women not to control their fates. My own wife and sister can tell you that.”

“I need no woman to instruct me in one of life's great truths, but I remind you that I am a widow. We have more control than most. Besides, Sir Ian and I are not suited. Surely he does not welcome this either.”

“He is willing.”

“I find that odd. Two days ago he was convinced I had contrived with a lover to murder my husband. Just this morning he suggested that I had whored for half the Armstrong army. Why would he agree to marry such a wicked woman? Surely not to avoid Aymer's challenge. Ian is many things, but a coward is not one of them.”

She studied Morvan's face when he did not answer. “You have bribed him,” she said, analyzing aloud. “Money or land? Land, I think.” The pieces fell into place. “
This
land.”

“You are most clever, Lady Reyna,” Morvan conceded.

“Aye, this marriage is most convenient for your purposes, but I do not see how it benefits me. Ian is not very promising husband material, and there has been little but strife between us from our first meeting. Nor does he trust me. Marriage to him will condemn me to a lifetime of hell.”

“You insult Ian and do him a disservice,” Morvan said. “His birth is better than yours, and his family a good one.”

“Well, he is far from home, in many ways. He is a brigand, with many ignoble deeds on his soul. And his appetite for women is notorious. In fact, I think that you make a mistake giving him these lands. It will not work out mathematically.”

“Mathematically?”

“Consider his reputation. A thousand nights, it is said. I calculate that he has required at least three women a week. Counting this keep and the surrounding farms, and assuming that a few of the wives will resist his seduction, these lands will not keep him contented long. No doubt with such a man repetition breeds boredom. He will be howling to get out of here in a year.”

Morvan's mouth twitched. David coughed lightly. Something like a hiss seethed out of the man at the hearth.

“So you see, Sir Morvan, this marriage will prove a disaster all around.”

“Still, I require it.”

“You can not require me to agree to it.”

“Nay. So I give you a choice. You can either marry Ian, or he will kill your brother tomorrow, after which your father will take you back to his household. You did not want that before and I do not think your situation will be any improved after this. Aside from the shame attached to what they think happened here, you are known to be barren and thus of little value to them for future marriage alliances. Being in your father's authority will probably not even relieve you of the judgment regarding your husband's death, since your father does not strike me as nearly so interested in protecting you as I had thought.”

He had summed up the situation neatly and cruelly, but had told her nothing she did not know. However, he had touched on a subject that opened a fear far bigger than the harsh life in Duncan's home. It was a fear that threatened to overwhelm notions of duty and promises whenever it surfaced.

“If I wed Ian and help you in this way, will
you
still see me judged in Robert's death?”

She held her breath during the pause that followed. When he finally spoke, it was with resignation. “It is best if that question is settled.”

“Then this marriage does not benefit me at all. Do not think to bully me, Sir Morvan. I learned as a child how to survive that. If the alternative is to go to my father, I will do so, and I will survive again. Better this time, for Robert of Kelso taught me how to be strong.”

Turning calmly, and deliberately not looking at Ian standing near the hearth wall, she swept away.

T
hat one is no fool,” David said.

Ian cursed vividly in response. To have to listen as the little thing piled insults on him had been intolerable. He wanted to chase her down and—He realized that he wanted to chase her down and caress her body until she was begging for him.

“I can not believe she is willing to go back to Duncan,” Ian said. “If that man abuses her in front of us, who knows what he will do when he has her.” That Duncan's harsh treatment was preferable to marrying
him
only added to the insults.

“She does not wish to go there, but she is holding out for terms that benefit her,” David said. “Morvan, you will have to guarantee her life in the matter of her husband's death.”

“I can not ignore such a crime if I am lord, just as you could not at Senlis.”

“Some compromise, perhaps.”

Morvan pondered the suggestion. “If she is guilty, she need not die. She can go to a convent.”

“That might be enough.”

Ian suddenly saw other terms that had not been offered but which might sway the woman.

He strode to the door, seething with determination.

“Where are you going?” Morvan asked.

“To trap a hellcat. Tell the priest and steward to expect a wedding tomorrow.”

R
eyna crouched on a path beside a bed of flowers and pointed out the medicinal plants, explaining their uses. On a nearby bench, Christiana listened with interest, but Anna, who had asked for the instruction, kept glancing up the length of the keep.

“They are up to something. I can just feel it,” Anna muttered, her brow furrowing. “What solution did they propose?”

Reyna gave a little shrug. The last thing she wanted was these women making further arguments on their husbands' behalf.

“Oh, dear saints. They want you to marry that thief, don't they?”

“Is she right, Reyna? Is that what they asked?” Christiana said.

“Of course it is,” Anna snapped. “Just like men. Ian behaves like a knave and his victim pays the price. I trust you refused.”

“Aye.”

“Good for you. The very notion of being tied to such a man is horrible.”

“I have always thought Ian was very nice,” Christiana said.

“You have only known him while you were married to someone who could hit his mark with a dagger from forty paces,” Anna said. “You are too kind to everyone.”

“I remind you that he saved Morvan's life. For that reason alone, I think you would be kinder in your
opinions. David said that he asked only for the chance to return to England and honorable service in return for his bravery.”