Read Through The Leaded Glass Online
Authors: Judi Fennell
Tags: #romance, #england, #historical, #contemporary, #fairy tale, #time travel, #medieval, #renaissance faire, #once upon a time, #pa renfaire
“
Hush, my love,” he said into her
hair as she trembled. “You won’t have to marry him. You’ll marry
me. The king will grant it, you must believe me.” He wouldn’t let
Wexham win Isobel. Not while there was a beat in his heart and rent
to be had in his lands.
She looked up at him, hope, for once, in her
eyes. “Really, Nicholas? You promise me? The man is a monster—three
wives, Nicholas. Three! And Elinor…”
“
You won’t be the fourth, Issy, and
if Elinor wishes to marry her duke, then we’ll arrange it. The king
is not so hard-hearted. Especially to those loyal to his crown. You
must remember I was at Redemore with him. I may not have the title
you desire, but I do have my loyalty to commend me. He won’t forget
that.”
There was a glimmer of a smile on those
beautiful lips and Nick allowed himself to hope. Henry had to let
him marry her. He’d have gladly stepped back for Alex, for, in
truth, Alex could offer Issy more than he could ever hope to. Alex
was a good man and the match Issy wanted. ‘Twas why he’d said
nothing.
But now, he would press his suit to the
fullest extent of his abilities and then, well, if Henry wasn’t the
man he thought him to be, he’d take Issy somewhere. Rome, perhaps,
but Wexham would not kill a fourth wife.
“
But you must free Kate, Isobel.
You interfere in events you don’t understand. Alex won’t marry you.
Not now.”
She nodded, her eyes hooded. “I know,
Nicholas. But I couldn’t give up hope. That’s not so bad, is
it?”
“
You know it is. Let her go, Issy.
Alex’s search for her takes him from other matters. You don’t know
what you’ve done. End the damage now, while there’s still a chance
for them.”
She raised her brow. “What do you
mean?”
Nick shook his head. “I’m not free to discuss
Alex’s troubles. He has spoken to me in confidence, but be assured,
Kate does need to return to Shelton with Alex.” He raised her chin.
“Immediately.”
“
Leave me, Nicholas. I’ll think
about what you’ve said. There’s so much you’re leaving to chance.”
She pulled from his arms, brushed a strand of her hair from her
face, and squared her shoulders.
“
With my plan, Nicholas, I’d be
married by year’s end. With yours, I might be dead.”
***
He removed an urn, one of a matched set, from
his satchel and placed it where the butler would find it. If fate
were smiling upon him, the old man wouldn’t question why Joan
wanted it filled now, but then, fate hadn’t been on his side for a
while, starting with the battle that had cost him everything by
putting that upstart on the throne. He may have lost the battle
alongside Richard, but he wasn’t done fighting the war.
He tucked the satchel beneath his arm and
pulled his hat lower. Alex would never know what hit
him.
***
Kate rubbed her sore fist and leaned against
the oak door. Oak? More like steel. After picking the lock hadn’t
worked, she’d tried prying the pin from the hinges with that
candelabru, but the pins were in too tight. Five hundred years from
now they probably wouldn’t be, but she couldn’t wait that
long.
She rubbed her fist again, examining it for
protruding bones. If she kept this up, she’d be nursing a broken
hand
and
trying to keep panic at bay. When she got out of
here, Isobel wouldn’t be able to talk for a month. Maybe ever, if
she knocked all her teeth out.
Kate got a grip on herself. Claustrophobia was
making her act like a crazy woman. She should be looking at this
from every angle. Any sane, rational woman would consider all her
options before bloodying her hands on an immovable object. Any
sane, rational woman would think before using brute
force.
Yeah, well, any sane rational woman wouldn’t
be stuck in some fifteenth-century dungeon-come-lately arguing with
herself, so what was her point?
Kate sighed. The point was, she was madder
than hell and had only herself to blame. She knew Isobel wanted
Alex; she shouldn’t have underestimated her.
Kate sat on the sofa. This wasn’t some
twenty-first century boardroom where strategy and creativity would
reap the rewards. This was a world governed by chivalry and
intrigue, where arranged marriages and even the common cold could
alter one’s status in life. A brother’s death had elevated Alex to
where he was today, it’d seen William kidnapped, and now had her
exiled to some inner sanctuary, all for someone’s wish for power.
If she were going to survive here, even if it was only for one more
day, she had to adapt to this world, not try to make it adapt to
her.
And then, to top it all off, she’d lost an
entire day, the
last
entire day she’d had to find the
window. Her meeting was tomorrow. Alex had probably spent the day
looking for her instead of the window, which, ironically, would
ensure that Isobel would never become Alex’s wife because Kate
wouldn’t be able to return so
she’d
have to marry
him.
Not such a bad idea…
Except then she wouldn’t have Emma. Wouldn’t
have the family she’d planned—though she could have William and
Alex.
That, too, wasn’t such a bad idea.
Kate leaned back. There were worse fates than
being with Alex if she ended up stuck here. He did, after all,
support her, and God knew she hadn’t had that back in the
twenty-first century.
She’d also never had a night like last night
in her time, sad to say. She’d thought she and Jay had had a good
sexual relationship, but Alex proved how wrong that idea
was.
It wasn’t necessarily Alex’s skill with his
fingers (though he had that), or his stamina (impressive though
it’d been), or that move he did with his tongue—
She smiled. That was a very nice
move.
But it’d been different, more fulfilling, more
emotional, more connected, more… something, and she wouldn’t mind
finding out what that something was. At the very least, she’d like
the opportunity to decide it for herself, but that would mean she’d
have to get out of the vault first.
But with the last candle sputtering out and a
door that was eighteen feet thick, she was severely low on options
for how to do that.
But then the lock to her prison
clicked.
Kate slid off the sofa, felt her way around to
the door, and raised the spiked candelabrum over her
head.
Time to make
new
options.
Chapter
Twenty-One
Alex dodged the blow to his midsection as he
and his men fought Isobel’s guards. A chair went sailing over his
head, and he shoved a foot into the guard’s braies. That ought to
take the man down long enough for Alex to tie him up. He wasn’t
here for murder—at least, not yet, though that would depend on how
well Isobel cooperated. And where the hell was Tristan?
A few more grunts, one solid
thunk
as
Thomas smashed a guard into the table, sending it flying against
the wall, then the fight was over. Isobel was right to be worried
about her marriage prospects if so few men could overcome her
guards.
He and Thomas quickly untied Tris and the
others.
“
They overpowered us, Alex.” Tris
spit out the gag. “We weren’t expecting—”
“
No reason you should have.” Alex,
on the other hand, should never have underestimated Isobel. “Let’s
get the rest of these ropes off you and find Kate.”
Nick ran in while they were tying up Isobel’s
guards. “I found Issy, Alex. She’s bringing Kate here with
her.”
It took all of Alex’s self control not to tear
down the walls to get to Kate. “I’ll rescind my offer of gold,
Nick, if anything’s happened to her.”
“
She’ll be fine, Alex. Issy knows
what she must do.”
“
How can you trust her after what
she’s done?”
“
Issy hasn’t had much of a choice
in anything in her life, and losing the betrothal to you was
devastating. Where once she’d had the possibility of becoming the
countess of a respectable earl, now she could go to a man who would
as soon kill her as ignore her. Can you blame her?”
“
It doesn’t excuse what she’s done,
Nick.”
“
I’m not making excuses, Alex,
believe me. I’d rather have this entire matter behind us, receive
Henry’s blessing, and concern ourselves with the bastard within
your keep. But just as you are searching for a way to save your
family, so too, is Isobel.”
Alex swiped a hand over his mouth, hating to
admit that Nick had a point. But so, too, did Kate.
Kate, who wanted nothing more than to return
home to claim her daughter, might miss the opportunity because of
Isobel’s actions.
That Isobel’s actions might ensure Kate
remained with him was a thought Alex had considered. And, God help
him, found himself liking. A lot.
More than a lot.
Oh, hell. He couldn’t deny it. He wanted her
to stay. Wanted Kate to take up her place in his home, his life,
and, yes, his heart. Coming home to find her gone today had made
everything clear.
He sat on one of the remaining chairs by the
hearth, and cradled his chin in his palm. Each flickering flame
reminded him of those in Kate’s eyes last night as he’d made love
to her.
With
her.
And it
had
been love. Somehow, he’d
opened himself up to that emotion again, allowed himself to feel.
To believe.
Yet he’d just commissioned the means by which
she could leave him. He knew it as surely as he knew he loved
her—and as surely as he knew he’d let her go.
Pain tore through his gut as surely as the
guard’s sword would have, but with far deadlier aim. This time he
knew at the outset what he’d be losing.
He was saved from dwelling on that thought by
the strike of boots outside the hall. He stood, drawing his sword,
and nodded for his men to do the same.
But the foreign words he heard had him quickly
sheathing it.
Five men strode into the room, their
confident—some would say arrogant—air making him smile.
“
It took you long enough, Gregorio.
I sent word days ago.” Alex embraced his childhood
friend.
Gregorio slapped him on the back. “Word only
reached us yesterday. And now, we arrive today, only to learn you
have traveled here. You know that you are the only reason my
brothers and I would dare enter the home of a
gadje
. So what
has happened? Did that
mulo
, Farley, finally best you in the
lists and now you are reduced to living in this hovel?”
Gregorio would commit murder to live in a
hovel like this; they both knew it. But if he did, he’d find
himself murdered just as quickly for most people did not trust the
Rom. “No. I’m waiting for my betrothed.”
“
I thought you weren’t going to
marry Lady Marston.”
“
I’m not.”
Gregorio smiled that smile Alex had seen women
swoon over. “Good. That means she’s available.”
“
No she’s not.” Nick whipped out
his sword.
Unfortunately, Gregorio’s brothers were much
faster.
Nick scowled at the four swords aimed at his
heart. “Stay away from her.”
“
Never fear, Caversham,” said
Gregorio. “I have more than enough women.”
“
And that’s why you’ll never find a
wife, Gregorio,” said Luca, his brother.
“
I wouldn’t bet on that, Luca,”
said Silverio. “Gregorio will be the one to fall the hardest. Mark
my words.”
Gregorio shoved the two of them and captured
Nick’s sword in one of his signature moves Alex had witnessed all
too often. “Enough! You, Luca, are a child. Why would I want a wife
when I can have fun with so many, eh? And Silverio, you keep your
notions of true love for your wife. The rest of us know it is
merely true lust.” He handed Nick the sword—hilt first—then clasped
Alex on the shoulders and led him to the fire. “Now, since you have
no need of us to find you a woman, what is it you want?”
The relationship the brothers shared was one
Alex had always envied. He and Frederick had never been close.
Frederick, as heir, had spent his days sequestered with their
father learning the workings of Shelton, while Alex, a second son,
had been free to roam the countryside. And since Gregorio’s family
had camped on Shelton land while his father had lived, Alex had
naturally been curious about them. They’d taken him in, treating
him as they did each other, not as an earl’s son.
Since then, their relationship had proven
beneficial for both parties. The gypsies possessed talents that
weren’t part of the normal upbringing for a nobleman’s son, and, as
earl, Alex had resources at his disposal should his friends ever
require them.
“
Gregorio, I need to know about a
woman who’s traveling with you.”
Gregorio, who’d been replacing a display of
jeweled plates on Isobel’s wall, looked over his shoulder, one
black eyebrow arched.
“
Another woman? I like the sound of
that.”