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Authors: Johanna Lindsey

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BOOK: Defy Not the Heart
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“I do not have to meet him to doubt you, sirrah. All you have said is in doubt, or did you assume I would blindly accept the word of an outlaw as truth? But your tale has put off your hanging for the while, at least until I hear what Lady de Burgh has to say of this. Do I find you have done me no harm, I will then look to the rest of your tale.”

L
ouise de Burgh stood in the open doorway of her hall, staring in horror as man after man rode through her gate to crowd into the bailey. She had been told Lord Fitz Hugh had come, but told too late to close the gate against him. Not that that would have kept him out, she realized now as his men continued coming, fifty, sixty, still more, and she saw the giant among them, sitting his huge destrier that refused to stand still, staring directly at her.

She saw one man she recognized, Sir Eric Fitzstephen. At least he was not dead. But what of the other two who had come with him yesterday? Did their absence mean they had not survived the ambush?

God help her, she must have been mad. She had known it not long after she had sent her men to attack those knights. She had sent another to call them back, but it had been too late. And now her overlord had come for retribution, and ’twas all Searle of Totnes’ fault, that wretched cur. If he had not told her Lord Ranulf would give her to him did he but ask, and that he would ask, she would not have been driven by anger to do something so stupid.

Of course, she could blame William, too, for proving so difficult and refusing to marry her. Had she been wed already, Searle of Totnes could not have upset her. But she could not blame William. She loved
him. In time she could have convinced him that they were right for each other. Now it was too late.

Or was it? Lord Fitz Hugh might have come with a small army, but could he know for certain what she had done? How could he know if she did not confess? The men who returned yesterday, few in number, would never admit their guilt either. And William, who might be guided by his cursed honor to tell all, did not know. She need only.

“Louise de Burgh?”

She nearly jumped out of her skin. He had not dismounted, had not even drawn near. His voice carried across the yard like a trumpet.

She would have to shout or approach him to answer. She preferred to do neither, and for now simply nodded.

“Is this all the men you have, lady?”

Louise glanced about to see that everyone had come out to get a look at the new Lord of Clydon, even the servants. But of course they had naught to fear of him; at least they did not think they did. William was there, too, standing with the men-at-arms, and frowning at Lord Fitz Hugh’s manner. These were the men Fitz Hugh referred to. She had only twelve here at Keigh Manor after losing ten yesterday.

Before she could nod again to answer his question, Lord Ranulf demanded, “Which of you is William Lionel?”

Louise came down the steps then, at a run. “What do you want with Sir William?” she cried. “He was not even here yester…day…”

’Twas too late to take back the words that as much as condemned her, if the look Lord Ranulf gave her now was any indication. He dismounted at last, and
Louise paled to see that he really was a giant, and coming straight toward her. She would have run were she not paralyzed with terror that he meant to kill her right then.

“I would have sworn ’twas not you, lady. When Eric suggested ’twas more like to be your man Lionel acting on his own to eliminate any competition, I was inclined to agree, even though he did not recall meeting the man.”

Ranulf had not expected Eric to show up just as he had dispatched half his men to escort the prisoners to Clydon and was about to ride for Keigh Manor with the rest. But as Eric had told him, there was no point in his waiting any longer for the outlaws to emerge from the woods on the east side, when the patrol from Warhurst had done so. So he had ridden straightaway to join Ranulf with the rest of their men, and after hearing the outlaw’s story, was quick to defend the widow.

“She is beautiful,” Eric had told him. “Did Searle not fall to Cupid’s bow so quickly, I might have asked for her myself. A man could easily be driven to murder for want of her, and this knight of hers no doubt saw his chances threatened when he learned why we were there.”

So Ranulf had been tempted to believe, but it just was not so. He should have stayed with his instincts that would doubt any lady first and foremost, simply because they were all deceitful and capable of treachery. And she was lovely, this one, with her corn-silk hair and eyes like sapphire, young, and afraid—with good reason. He ought to hang her, but he supposed his little general would object to that.

“What is this about, Lord Fitz Hugh?”

Ranulf turned to face the knight he had noticed earlier, and assumed rightly that this was Sir William Lionel. Tall and handsome, with sooty black hair and keen gray eyes, he supposed the man could easily inspire passion in a lonely young woman. The question was, who wanted whom?

“Your lady decided she had too many suitors and ought to kill off a few,” Ranulf replied in disgust.

“That is a serious charge, my lord.”

“She is guilty all the same.”

“Not until proven, and I will stand her champion to decide the matter.”

Ranulf’s interest perked immediately. He looked the man over more carefully. He was big enough, near six feet, brawny enough, and willing. Ranulf had been denied the fight he had waited half the night and all morning for. Would he have it now?

“Against me?”

There was a start of surprise, but Sir William quickly recovered and tendered a curt nod. Ranulf’s smile came slow and was chilling in its implication. Lady Louise promptly burst into tears and threw her arms around William’s neck.

“You cannot fight him, not him! Please, William, I did naught—at least he cannot prove it. And Lady Reina will protect me.”

“Stop it,” William said harshly and set her aside.

“But he will kill you!”

“You should have thought of that ere you acted with your usual childish impetuosity.”

He turned away from her then and walked to the center of the court. Ranulf nodded to Eric to restrain the lady should it be necessary and went to join him. There was a short wait while Sir William’s squire went
to fetch his helmet so he would be as fully armored as Ranulf, but once it was donned, Ranulf drew his sword and attacked.

The hope was strong that for once he had a worthy opponent, and William Lionel did acquit himself well at first. His movements were swift, his instincts good, his blade or shield blocking every swing. But that was all he was able to do. As usual, Ranulf’s offensive gave no opportunity for counterattack. His powerful blows continued nonstop until Lionel was brought to his knees by sheer exhaustion, unable to raise his shield even once more.

He bowed his head, awaiting the death blow, too done in to overmuch care. He heard Ranulf sheathe his sword instead and looked up with surprise. The giant was grinning, his breathing labored only the slightest degree. William shook his head in bemusement and chagrin.

“It does you no merit to enjoy this win, when the lady’s fate hung in the balance.”

Ranulf laughed at the man’s misconception. “I have done naught to turn your belly, sirrah. The lady’s fate was set whether you fought for her or not.”

“Then why did you accept my challenge?”

“I needed the exercise. With my usual partner bedfast thanks to the lady’s treachery, ’twill be long ere I have someone capable of standing against me. But you do not ask after her fate. Did you love her so little?”

“I love her not at all. She might be comely, but she is a spoiled, vain child and much too willful for my liking.”

“Did you know she wanted you?”

“Aye, but I never encouraged her. Far from it. I
did all I could to show her I was not interested, including begging leave to depart her service. She would not believe me.”

“Then why stand her champion?”

“She might be a spoiled little bitch and foolish in the extreme, but I am still her man until she releases me.”

Ranulf bit back another chuckle at the rancor in those words. “Very commendable. I can use a man of such convictions in my own service, are you willing. But as for the lady’s fate, Sir William, you need have no further concern. She will be wed to my own man who will assure she makes no more mischief. She may not like it, but she will learn loyalty to her overlord even if her bottom must suffer in the teaching.”

“A lesson she should have had long ago,” William snorted in full agreement.

Ranulf turned away then, tossing his helmet to Kenric. His eyes happened to light on the widow, who was too far away to have heard what was said of her. She was pale, anxious, and fair trembling with fear now that her champion had failed to acquit her through combat. But as he approached to tell her of his decision, he watched her change with her first clear sight of his face. Her expression softened, her body relaxed, her eyes turned sensual in appraisal, and he could almost hear the wheels turning in her mind. He had seen that look too often to mistake it, the look of a woman about to seduce a man to get what she wanted.

“Do not even think it, lady,” he growled at her and turned about again.

She could wait until Searle was recovered enough
to come here and tell her her fate. She could stew with worry in confinement until then, which was far less than she deserved for the lives she had cost. Had her mischief not led to other discoveries, he would not be even that lenient.


H
e comes, my lady.”

Reina did not need to hear more. She ran from her chamber and down the stairs, across the hall, down more stairs and still more, reaching the bailey just as Ranulf dismounted. With no thought to the war-horse whose reins he still held, she charged forward and threw her arms about Ranulf’s neck.

Hearing him swear most foully was the first indication she should not have been so impulsive. Feeling his whole body jerked by the reins was the second. And then she heard the horse as it geared up to do what it did best, stomp anyone foolish enough to run toward it, including its master. Reina gave a small gasp and let go to scurry out of the way.

Ranulf was furious by the time he finally got the animal under control. But one look at Reina’s ashen face, reminding him of Louise de Burgh’s fear of him, and he tucked his anger away to draw from at another time. He walked to his wife and picked her up.

“That was a fool thing to do, lady,” he said simply.

“I know. Stupid and thoughtless and it will not happen again.”

“Good,” he replied, still quietly. “Now do you tell me why you did such a stupid, thoughtless thing.”

Her eyes lowered shyly, while her hands hesitantly touched his shoulders, slowly slipped around them,
until she was again clinging tightly to his neck. “I was worried,” she whispered by his ear. “When the men returned with prisoners and said where you had gone and why, I became afraid. I remembered William Lionel, and he is no small man. I was afeard you would fight him and might be hurt.”

The shaking, she discovered after a moment, was laughter. It very effectively dashed her concern and replaced it with chagrin. So, too, did the tight squeeze she got before she was set back on her feet.

“Do not be silly, woman.”

The grin he gave her was all the prod her temper needed. “Aye, I must be to worry over a lackwitted lout with no more sense than to ride into a place suspected of treachery with so few men at his back!”

“Eric’s men had joined up with me ere we got there.” He was still grinning.

“Oh,” Reina said, but was not completely satisfied. “Still, you should have waited.”

“For what purpose? I was there and had ample men to go up against a mere handful. And as for Lionel, he might be a man of considerable size, but look at me, Reina, and tell me which of us you would place your wager on.”

She gave him a sour look for that piece of conceited logic. “It takes only one man with one arrow to fell a giant, Ranulf. You are not invincible.”

“Mayhap not,” he agreed. “But I am not an idiot either. I have been taking keeps and defeating armies for other men these past seven years. Think you I will be careless now that I fight for myself?”

“I suppose not,” she grudgingly conceded.

“Then what were you worried about?”

“A woman does not need a reason to worry,” she retorted irritably. “I felt like worrying, so I did.”

“Lady, before you go much further and make even less sense to me, I have to tell you I am not much longer on my feet. You should be offering me a bath, a meal, and a bed, instead of railing at me for a good day’s work. Do you know how long it has been since I last slept?”

Hot color flooded her cheeks. “Sweet
Jesú
, why did you let me go on like that? Come inside, my lord, and you will have what you desire.”

He stared at her hips swaying as she preceded him up the stairs and shook his head. He wished she had not used those particular words. For once he was too tired to take advantage of them.

 

Reina was not sure what had awakened her, but she was immediately aware that the bed was empty beside her, even before she turned to see that it actually was. She felt a moment’s qualm, followed by a start when she saw that Ranulf was still there in the room. But where he was, leaning against the post at the foot of the bed, the bed curtains pushed out of his way for an unobstructed view of her, brought back her disquiet. So, too, did his nakedness, bathed bronze in the light of the night candle. If he had noticed his new bedrobe draped over his clothes chest, he had ignored it.

“Is something wrong, my lord?”

“Nay.”

“Then what are you doing just standing there?”

“Watching you sleep,” he said simply, adding just as simply, “You snore, you know.”

Her mouth dropped open, but she was quick to snap it shut. “I do not!”

“Aye, you do. Not loudly, but ’twas snoring just the same.”

What a terrible thing to tell a woman, and rot him, she could not even say the same about him. “Thank you. I would have been aggrieved had I gone on much longer without learning that.”

He chuckled. “Do not be wroth with me, little general. I am still wallowing in the glow of your earlier concern. No one has ever taken such tender care of me as you did.”

How could she be wroth with him after hearing that? “I did no more than bathe and feed you.”

“And warmed my wine and my sheets, and covered the windows to darken the room, and chased all your ladies below so no noise would disturb me at that early hour. Lady, you even tucked me in ere you tiptoed from the room.”

Was he teasing her or thanking her? Reina blushed all the same. She thought he had been asleep by then, he had been so tired. And she was so relieved that he had come home without even a scratch that it had been a pleasure to make him comfortable. But had he really never been tucked into bed before? That urge to put her arms around him and just hold him was back again, but he was no child to comfort, and she was being silly even wanting to.

“I thought surely you would sleep through to the morn, my lord. Did something disturb you?”

Aye, you did
, he thought to himself,
snuggling up close to my body
. But he had already made her blush once, so he would not say so.

“Nay, a few hours was enough to restore me. I am
not yet adjusted to the luxury of having a normal night’s sleep. Yet I was so tired, I did not ask of Walter. How does he fare?”

“He awoke and started complaining, as I predicted he would.” At least this time she spoke true. “Will you tell me now what happened at Keigh Manor?”

“You mean you did not pester my men for that information once I was abed?”

His knowing grin was annoying, but after a moment she returned it, conceding, “So Eric told me, also that you did fight Lionel.”

“And?” he prompted.

“Very well, so there was no contest and I had no reason to worry,” she said grudgingly. “But I told you a woman does not need good reason.”

“That you worried at all, lady, is what intrigues me.”

“Think you I want to go through the trouble of choosing another husband?” she retorted.

“Then you are pleased with your present husband?”

“Satisfied.”

He gave a rumble of laughter. “A word of many meanings, that.”

Reina gritted her teeth. “You have strayed from the subject, my lord. Eric did not say what you intend doing with Lady Louise.”

He came forward to sit on his side of the bed. For a moment she stared at his broad back, and the strength indicated there gave her a pleasurable shiver that sent her thoughts straying from the subject as well. Then he leaned back on one elbow placed next to her hip, and she was surprised by how serious his expression had become.

“The widow will remain confined in her chamber until Searle is well enough to wed her—that is, if he still wants her after learning of her perfidy.”

Reina stiffened. “Then you did not even consider Sir Arnulph as I asked?”

“Nay, I did not. I have Birkenham in mind for him.”

“But that is too much!” she gasped in amazement.

“Why, if he is as loyal as you say and acceptable to me once I meet him?”

“But—but I thought you would give it to Walter.”

“He does not want it.”

“I know he said that, but surely he was jesting.”

Ranulf smiled. “He was most serious. He knows that I will always have a place for him without weighing his shoulders down with responsibilities, which he does not want. Did I try to do so, he would just as soon go home, where he is welcome and would not be asked to do aught more than fight when he is needed.”

“Then why did you send him to Keigh Manor?”

He shrugged. “To keep the younger two lads from coming to blows over the lady if they both decided they wanted her.”

“And what if he had taken a fancy to Louise?”

“That would have been unlikely, as Walter has already shown a keen interest in one of your ladies here, or had you not noticed?”

“Eadwina is not a lady.”

He chuckled at her indignant snort. “Not her. His interest in her is no more than a necessity. A man must still see to his needs while he is contemplating marriage. Or would you countenance his sneaking into Dame Florette’s bed?”

“I countenance neither action, if you must know. I do not see why a man cannot control his lustiness for a short time. If Walter wants Florette, and I can assure you she would be delighted to have him, why can he not wait until they are wed? You did.” For the second time, she saw her husband’s face flush with color, and concluded, feeling unreasonably hurt, “You did not?”

He heard the catch in her voice and put his hand to her cheek. “Lady, would I have been so impatient to have you after that second wedding ceremony if I was bedding one of your wenches? But I was annoyed enough with you for closing your door to me that I will not deny I thought about it. And if you say thinking about it is just as bad, I will beat you.”

She grinned helplessly, knowing full well he did not mean it, and too relieved to care if he did. “Nay, I would not say that, or else every man alive must be condemned.”

“’Tis good you can be reasonable,” he grunted and sat up again.

He also knew she trusted him not to beat her, but he was not sure if that was good or not. How did you control a wife who did not fear reprisals? If he ever did see the need to punish her, she was like to feel betrayed and never forgive him, and that was not worth any lesson she needed learning. But why he should feel that was so was the question.

“Is something wrong, Ranulf?”

“I have just recalled the prisoners,” he said gruffly, disturbed by the direction in which his thoughts had gone and needing a distraction. “Where were they put?”

“In one of the wall towers. I must say I was surprised to see them brought in.”

“Why?”

“I did not think your plan would work after you changed your mind about sending a messenger to Warhurst, to send a letter instead, and that unsigned. Only a complete fool would act on such unreliable information.”

“I counted on the castellan being the imbecile you claimed him to be, and so he was.”

“But why take that chance?”

“I did not care to be cast as the fool if the plan went awry.”

She had to force back a smile at that bit of vanity. “Oh, very wise, my lord.”

He frowned, sensing her humor anyway. “Wise or not, lady, it still worked. And because I did send only a message, Warhurst is unaware that I was even involved, or that I now have the outlaws.”

“Yet I heard you say you meant to turn them over to Warhurst. You have changed your mind about that, too?”

“For the while.”

“Do you tell me you mean to hang them yourself?”

“You need not sound so appalled, lady. Do they deserve to hang, they will hang. But I am inclined to believe a lesser punishment is called for, or even none at all, if what they said about Warhurst is true. ’Tis that truth I mean to get at on the morrow.”

“But you cannot believe aught from an outlaw,” she protested.

“So I thought, yet what their leader had to say about Keigh Manor proved true enough.”

“And what have they said about Warhurst?”

“Only that your esteemed Lord Richard has been there these past weeks, that he left Warhurst with a large force the same morn I found a large force attacking Clydon, and that he returned to his town that same morn, wounded. The man had a lot more to say, but… You laugh? I fail to see aught humorous in what I said.”

She tried to control it, but another peal of laughter rang out. It was his steadily increasing glower that finally sobered her, though not completely.

“Tell me you did not give credit to that ridiculous tale.”

“And why is it ridiculous?”

“For what possible reason would Richard attack me?”

“For the same reason you thought Falkes de Rochefort attacked you.”

“To marry me?” She grinned. “You forget I was willing to marry Richard.”

“Nay, I do not forget. But tell me, Reina, did he know it?”

That sobered her completely, and that he was obviously pleased to have made that point annoyed her as well. “Whether he did or not, you will never convince me that Richard would do me harm. You do not know him, Ranulf. He is the most affable, sweetnatured—”

“Is he?” He cut her off with a sneer. “You are so certain of that? What if he is a completely different man inside the walls of his little kingdom? Have you ever seen him inside Warhurst, to know how he behaves there, or how his people behave toward him?” He went on to tell her the rest of what the outlaw had
to say of her Lord Richard, ending, “What if even a little of that is true?”

“Because an outlaw says so?” she scoffed. “Of course he would tell you true about Keigh Manor when you were after his neck and he knew it. And since that worked out so well for him, he spun another tale of injustice done him to work on his next hope, full freedom, which you have already admitted you are considering. Oh, he is a clever one. But you will not convince me that Richard is aught but good. And I know why you want to believe this nonsense.” She did not even give him a chance to challenge that statement, but went on heatedly. “For the same reason you delighted in belittling Lord John. You want me to be ever grateful that I got you instead of one of them. But I am grateful for that, so you do not need—”

He put a sudden stop to this tirade by rolling over and landing half on top of her. A finger across her lips kept her from even gasping, while he grinned unabashedly.

“You have worked yourself into a huff for naught, lady. I did not say I believed any of that, only that I meant to get at the truth. Do you say your Richard is a saint, I will consider it so until I see proof to the contrary. But let us now examine this gratitude you have just confessed to having. Does it carry with it certain benefits?”

BOOK: Defy Not the Heart
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