Chapter One #2
Her arrogant tone bordered on boastful. She didn't appear to be troubled by her husband's death.
Combined with her lack of concern, he wondered if she was simply a fool.
He would find out soon enough. Burke, the captain of his troops, approached.
The baroness' gaze now settled on the other man.
Clear appreciation grew in her green eyes, as well as a hint of excitement. She would bear watching.
Burke paid her no notice as he neared. "My lord? Is aught amiss?"
A gasp escaped the baroness. It seemed she now realized his identity. She immediately bowed her head. Never once taking his angry gaze from her, Royce issued instructions to his captain.
"Naught I can't handle. Find the stableman and have the horses seen to. Have the men set up camp in the bailey. Our hostess will see me inside. Meet me there."
He turned back to the woman, who nodded, her eyes once more veiled in wariness as she turned to the steps.
Some unknown warning poked at him. This woman required close scrutiny.
Putting his suspicions aside for the moment, Royce followed, glad to get out of the wind.
Once inside, he ignored her and went to the fire burning in the hearth.
He warmed his hands. Between the gathering at Shrewsbury, the preparation for his nuptials and the trip here, he'd had no chance to pause.
Now, he allowed himself to relax his tired body in a comfortable chair.
All around him, the keep was alive with activity, no doubt in preparation for the king's impending arrival. And Royce's own wedding.
The order to leave Shrewsbury, with Parliament about to convene to decide the matter of the Welsh prince's punishment, had not been received well.
Especially since the order also included a decree he wed the baron's daughter.
With the baron now dead, under suspicious circumstances, there was not enough time to have the girl brought to Shrewsbury.
The excursion to Wickshire and Lyndon Castle had been disastrous from the moment they set out, and the journey, which should have lasted a day at most, had turned into three.
All he wanted now as a tall mug of ale, a hearty meal and a soft bed.
Thoughts of sharing it with his intended took him on an imaginary journey that again had his cock hardening like an untrained squire.
"My lord, forgive my earlier words. I meant no disrespect."
Royce looked up at his hostess, who stood before him, her expression a picture of humility and chagrin. His anger had faded a little and he had no wish to stir more turmoil at the moment. "What is your name?"
"I am Anne, Baroness of Lyndon, my lord. With my husband dead, I am in charge, should you require anything."
Royce nodded. He didn't tell her the truth, preferring instead to watch her.
He'd announce that he already owned Lyndon, wed or not, during the meal.
Anne moved away and he heaved a deep breath.
Something about her set off a multitude of warnings.
The simple annoyance he'd first thought her to be could prove dangerously wrong.
He would discuss strategy for handling her with Burke.
He stood, folding his arms behind his back and took some time to survey his surroundings.
He needed to be as familiar with Lyndon as with Montchester, as much of his time in the coming months, mayhap years, would be spent here.
With the Welsh situation still unresolved, rumors of a small band of rebels not far from Lyndon worried him.
His gaze roamed the hall, pleased to find the castle well-kept and clean.
Fresh rushes, scented with herbs covered the floor.
Flickering torches cast a warm light across the room, revealing the staircase that wound up the far wall.
The layout of the keep must be learned this very eve.
Servants hastily prepared tables for the evening meal.
His stomach rumbled, reminding him he had eaten nothing since breaking his fast that morn.
After supper, he and his soldiers would question every one of the servants.
Men needed to be tasked with securing the keep and grounds ere the king arrived.
Then Royce would turn his attention to the surrounding forests.
Despite the severity of the state of affairs in the region, he found his thoughts once more turned to his betrothed.
Her image seemed to hover before him, violet eyes staring, filled with curiosity.
He recalled her knowing smile when he realized her true status.
While he trusted no woman, his bride was obviously innocent, and so very young.
Still, he sensed in her a maturity and a capability that spurred his curiosity.
He hoped the idea proved true. For the first time, he found himself anticipating the upcoming wedding.
***
Gillian closed the door to her father's chamber and leaned against it. The astonishment on the face of the dark-haired man when she'd responded to the call made her smile again. He'd thought her nothing but a servant, and she supposed 'twas exactly as Anne planned it.
Gillian sobered as she wondered which man would be her groom.
She found herself hoping 'twould be the man with the golden eyes.
She'd seen appreciation in his gaze, and found herself oddly thrilled by it.
If only she would be so lucky. The earl was likely a much older man, balding, and paunchy from lazing at court.
She savored the brief warmth of the recollection of the way the gold-eyed man's gaze had moved over her, almost hungry in its intensity. Just as quickly, she forced it aside. More important matters needed her attention.
On unsteady legs, she made her way to the empty bed.
Had it really been a week since he'd passed?
It seemed much longer. A sob escaped her and she fell on the bed, letting free the sorrow she'd kept composed through the long days of preparing and then burying her father.
Strong hands on her shoulders jerked her from her weeping. She looked up into Simon's dark eyes.
Her brother, though never claimed. William's bastard son. She threw herself into his arms, sobbing anew.
When she had no tears left, she pulled free of his tight embrace. His eyes were wet as well, and she gave a soft smile.
"I miss him so much already."
Simon nodded. "I know. And we'll prove she did it."
"I pray you're right. She has to pay. If only the earl had gotten here sooner."
"It doesn't matter. Lyndon is already his."
Gillian gaped at her brother. "How can that be? I am not wed yet!"
"The night before... William gave me several messages to send. One was a reply to the king agreeing to give over the lands of Lyndon and Wickshire immediately."
Gillian sank back onto the bed. Her home was already taken from her, before she'd even been sacrificed. The room seemed to tilt and she clutched at the blanket to steady herself. Her father dead, her home already in the possession of another... her life had been torn asunder in a few short days.
"Gilly, everything will be fine, you'll see."
"Everything's changing. I..." She stood, pacing the chamber, trying not to look at the empty bed.
She needed to prepare the room for the earl.
The thought of another man sleeping in her father's bed almost set her to weeping anew.
She strode to the door and yanked it open, intending to call for the steward.
Instead, Anne stood in the doorframe. Gillian backed up, alarmed by the unholy light in the other woman's eyes.
"You'll be gone soon." Anne stepped into the room, her gaze settling on Simon. "I should have known I'd find you here. Your days of cavorting with this slut are soon over. I doubt the earl will allow you to even remain here at all."
"Shut your lying mouth!" Gillian shouted. She grabbed Anne's arm and spun the woman to face her. "You did this, you killed my father, and I will prove it. I am not going anywhere. You are!"
Anne jerked free. "You spoiled brat. At every turn you undermined me. Me! The lady of this keep. You are chattel, to be bargained away. Except I now have the perfect weapon to ensure this all remains in my possession."
She rubbed her hand over her belly and gave a broad triumphant grin. "I carry the baron's son."
"Liar!" Gillian lunged at her stepmother, but Simon held her back.
"'Tis true. I am with child."
Realization set in amid flashing memories of conversations. So much made sense now.
"Now I know what Papa meant that night, before he became ill." Gillian smiled. The knowledge she possessed would soon humble the viper.
"What did he say?"
"He petitioned the king to set aside a contract. I believe he meant his marriage contract." She grinned at the anger pinching Anne's face.
"'Tis you who lies."
"Nay, he knew. He knew the whispers were true. You carried on an affair with a man from the village. The child is not my father's. It's your lover's!" Gillian folded her arms. "No matter though. Lyndon has already been awarded to the earl."
She turned her back; satisfied Anne's latest scheme had failed. If only Gillian could have prevented the other plan from succeeding.
***
Gillian's declaration carried out of the room.
Royce smiled and paused in the doorway. Though small, this castle in the Marches increased not just his holdings, but his power.
He was one of a handful of men the king truly trusted.
Giving Lyndon and its daughter to Royce proclaimed that to all.
With no other heirs of the baron, none could usurp Royce as the next Baron Lyndon.