Read Elizabeth Elliott Online

Authors: Betrothed

Elizabeth Elliott (28 page)

That was a lie, but Guy realized she meant to calm him. He closed his eyes, then opened them again very slowly. Kenric was right. He was crazed. He lowered the weapon and looked from Fitz Alan to Kenric, then back again. “This ‘wench’ is my betrothed, soon to be my wife. No one touches her but me.”

Fitz Alan exchanged a cryptic look with Kenric, then inclined his head toward Guy. He even managed to smile. “My apologies, brother. ’Tis not my habit to welcome new members to the family at knifepoint.” He bowed to Claudia. “My apologies to you as well, Lady—” Fitz Alan cocked one brow toward Guy. “An Italian lady by her speech. Would this be the Lady Claudia you wrote us about in your missive?”

Claudia stiffened and moved closer to Guy’s side.
“Addio … é tuo fratello?”

“Nay, sweet. Fitz Alan is my sister’s husband.” His arm
tightened around her and he nodded toward Kenric. “This is my brother, Kenric, Baron Remmington.”

Guy watched Claudia’s gaze move from Fitz Alan to Kenric. His brother’s scowl had its usual effect. Her eyes widened in horror. She shook her head. “But he was trying to kill you!”

“Is that what you thought?” Guy found himself smiling. Relief made him feel light-headed. “ ’Twas but a contest.”

“A contest?” she echoed, her gaze darting again to Kenric. He felt her shudder. “You risk your life for a contest?”

“My brother would never hurt me,” he assured her. “He is simply determined to teach me all he knows of fighting. Everyone knows these contests are something of a tradition whenever we meet.”

“I did not know that,” she bit out.

He grinned at her, pleased to see her courage return. “I cannot believe you meant to stop it. To enter a sword fight armed with nothing more than a dagger. What possessed you to do something so foolish?”

Guy knew he made a mistake the moment the words left his mouth.

“Your foolish games made me shame myself before your family,” she announced, still speaking in Italian. Her chin rose and she gathered her skirts. She looked every inch a queen, chastising a lowly subject. “I will await your apology in our chamber.”

Guy just smiled and eyed the saucy switch of her hips as she walked away from him. She’d tried to save him from his own brother. His smile faded.

It occurred to him that Kenric’s fearsome exterior was not the only reason for the look of horror when she discovered his identity. Aye, she’d made an endearing fool of herself before Kenric and Fitz Alan. But she also found herself unexpectedly in the company of her own brother’s killers. And he was now faced with the prospect of explaining why he intended to marry a traitor’s sister. His mouth curved downward.


Our
chamber?” Fitz Alan asked dryly. “Clever of you to gain the girl’s confidence by seducing her. Willing prisoners are so much more pleasant to have about.”

“I suggest you lock the wench away before she learns you have no intention of marrying her,” Kenric suggested matter-of-factly. “A woman scorned can make a deadly enemy. That one appears more dangerous than most.”

Guy looked around the circle of soldiers. The men closest to them hung on their every word. Others craned their necks to eavesdrop. He wondered when his brothers had grown so thickheaded. “You may both make a habit of discussing family business before your soldiers, but I do not.” He nodded toward the great hall. “I suggest we retire to a place more private.”

Fitz Alan resheathed his dagger while a squire produced Kenric’s clothing in exchange for his sword. Stephen delivered Guy’s shirt and tunic as well, and Guy donned the garments with quick, harsh movements. His gaze scanned the crowd for Evard, and he motioned the knight forward with a silent gesture. “Have the steward arrange a bath and meal for my brothers, and whatever else they need to refresh themselves from their journey. I want a bath delivered to my chamber as well.”

Evard had the audacity to grin. “Like as not, the water for the bath you ordered upon your return yesterday is still heating.”

Guy’s eyes narrowed. “That will be
all
, Evard.”

“Aye, my lord.” Evard bowed low, then turned to carry out his orders.

Guy was tempted to place his boot on Evard’s insolent backside. Instead he turned toward Kenric and Fitz Alan. Both eyed him warily. “Now that I consider the situation more fully, it seems best if you avail yourselves of my hospitality while I attend to other matters. I will meet you in the solar in a few hours. There is much we must discuss.” He inclined his head in a mocking bow. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have an apology to make.”

Guy ignored their looks of disbelief and set off for the great hall. He didn’t feel any need to explain his concerns about Claudia, that it just occurred to him that her haughty departure was little more than a disguise to hide her fears. He didn’t want her to be afraid ever again. His brothers’ timing couldn’t be worse. It would not hurt them to cool their heels for a few hours. Left to her own devices, Claudia’s imagination could doubtless conjure any number of dire scenarios. She was more important than his family at the moment.

That thought made him pause on the winding stairs that led to his chamber. In all his life, no one had taken precedence over his family. Claudia not only took precedence, somehow she had become the entire focus of his life. He no longer imagined a moment without her in it.

Once he’d worried that his obsession with her would make him weak and vulnerable. Instead he felt new purpose. She filled a void in his life that he’d never known existed. The wealth he’d amassed and the trade empire he’d built meant nothing without someone to share his fortune, someone to confide in who had only his best interests at heart, someone who understood him. Until Claudia, no one could grasp the logic of his interest in trade. She understood what drove him better than any other, and seemed to recognize when he lost sight of his own goals. He could save her from a lifetime crowded with fears, but she could save him from a lifetime of empty successes.

The time had come to give himself over completely to his obsession, without reservation. He found the object of his obsession in his chamber. Claudia sat cross-legged amidst the pillows in front of the fireplace, a green and white tunic spread across her lap. He closed the door loud enough to announce his presence, but she didn’t look up from her sewing. Content to study her delicate profile until she acknowledged him, he leaned against the door and waited. The wait lengthened and he turned his attention to the cut of her plum-colored daygown. It clung to her in all the right places, the bodice low enough to tempt his imagination, yet modest
enough to be worn in front of others. Her long braid drew his gaze down the trim lines of her back to where the braid curved along her hip. His hands mentally followed the same path and he felt a traitorous quickening in his loins.

“You are here to apologize?” she asked at last.

“Aye. You have my most heartfelt apology, my lady.”

Her hands stilled and she turned her head to give him a long, thoughtful look. “I did not think you would do it.”

“And risk losing my lady’s favor?” He smiled and shook his head. “I think not.”

She lowered her lashes. “Perhaps I was a bit hasty in my demand. I acted without thinking. You were right to call me foolish.”

“Then I retract my apology and accept yours.”

Her mouth formed a pout. “You mock me, sir. Was your apology nothing more than an attempt to humor me?”

“Aye. Did it work?”

Her haughtiness dissolved into a smile. That smile made him feel warm everywhere. “I will not encourage such ungallant behavior.”

There were all sorts of ungallant behavior he would like her to encourage. He sat down behind her on the pillows, then stretched out his legs so that she sat cradled between his thighs.

“Is this tunic meant for me?” His arms went around her and he smoothed the fabric of the tunic in her lap, making certain there were no wrinkles at all where the tunic lay across her legs.

She tried to push his hands away, being careful not to jab him with her needle. “Aye, ’tis yours. I took the measurements from another of your tunics, so I am certain this one will fit.”

“Is this a dog?” His fingers traced the shape of an animal she’d stitched on the shoulder of the tunic. The emblem happened to lie atop her knee. The pressure of his finger made her leg jerk and he smiled over the discovery that she was ticklish.

“I thought it looked more like a wolf,” she said, her voice hesitant. She tilted her head to one side, a clear invitation that Guy accepted. His lips brushed along the smooth column of her neck.

“ ’Tis a dog.” He traced the emblem again, delighted by the small movements she made to escape his tickling. “See? You made the body too long and narrow to be a proper wolf. And the wolf of Montague should be on a field of blue, not green.”

“You do not like it?”

His fingers moved to a series of stripes resting along her inner thigh. “On the contrary, I daresay this will be my favorite tunic.”

She giggled and grabbed his hand. “Stop that.”

“Why?” He ignored her order. His hand closed over her knee and he gave it a gentle squeeze. Her throaty laughter made him smile. “Are you ticklish?”

“Nay, oh, stop that. Please.” She pushed against his hand even as she dissolved into a fit of giggles. “Aye! I will admit it. I am ticklish. Stop!”

He released his hold on her leg. “Hm. I wonder where else you are so sensitive.”

Her elbows clamped against her sides. “Nowhere.”

“Really?” He chuckled over the blatant lie and tossed the tunic aside along with the sharp needle, then wedged his hands beneath her elbows to test her waist. “You are not ticklish here?”

“Nay. Oh! Ah, ah …” Her giggles turned to laughter. She made one last effort to control herself and braced both hands against his legs. “Stop!”

He tickled her mercilessly, his laughter just as loud, her mirth infectious. She twisted and turned until she ended up sprawled across his lap. Her laughter turned to helpless shrieks and his hands finally grew still, one at her waist, the other at her thigh.

She collapsed against the pillows, her taut body suddenly limp. Her eyes sparkled with tears of laughter as she gazed up
at him. She laid her hands atop his and gasped for air. “You are—
ruthless
.”

“I like to see you laugh.” He stretched out on the pillows next to her, his head propped on his hand, and brushed a stray wisp of hair behind her ear. “You may take your revenge on me later tonight when we are abed. I, too, am ticklish, but in only one place and I shall not tell you where. You must make that discovery on your own.”

She turned on her side to face him, then reached out to wedge her fingers beneath his arm. “Perhaps I will make that discovery right now.”

He shook his head when she wriggled her fingers. “ ’Tis doubtful you will make any such discovery while I am dressed. However, if you wish to undress me right now, I will be happy to place myself at your complete mercy.”

“That has a nice sound to it.” Her expression turned thoughtful, and she lowered her lashes. “But I do not want to keep you from your guests. They think little enough of my character as it is.”

“They thought you were trying to murder me. Or meant to murder Kenric. They know better now.” He stroked his fingertips along the soft curve of her cheek. “I am touched that you were so concerned for my safety, yet now I worry that you might someday put yourself in harm’s way on my account. Do not be fooled by my poor showing against Kenric. I can take care of myself in any fight.”

“You were losing,” she pointed out.

“Aye, as every man loses against my brother. He is unbeatable with a sword or lance. ’Tis a fact,” he assured her, when she gave him a skeptical look. “Have you never heard of him?”

She shrugged one shoulder. “After Roberto died, I heard a few tales about the man who killed him. Now that I have met your brother, all that seems missing are the horns. He is—frightening.”

“He will not harm you, Claudia. I promise. You might even come to like him some day.” Her expression said that
would be no day soon. He tried a different tack. “He and Fitz Alan will accept you as my betrothed. If anything would ever happen to me, you will always have the protection of my family.”

“Do they know who I am?”

“Nay, but they will not hold you responsible for the actions of your brother when they learn the truth.”

“I think you overestimate your family’s willingness to forgive and forget.”

“You will see for yourself,” he predicted. “Just be yourself when we join them in the great hall, and you will have them eating from your hand in no time.”

She shook her head. “I cannot face them again. Not yet.”

“Do not tell me you are turning coward at this late date?” He gave her a look of mock horror. “Here I boasted to my brothers that you have the heart of a lion, that you could scale castle walls and face down a boar without batting an eye. They will think me a liar.”

“I think you are spinning a tale right now,” she countered. Still, she was smiling. He took heart.

“This afternoon I will meet with my brothers alone. There are matters we must discuss that are best spoken where everyone in the great hall will not strain to hear them. Tomorrow we will have a feast to celebrate their arrival.” He watched her face carefully. “You will attend that feast, and take your rightful place at my side.”

Rather than argue, she placed her hand on his cheek. “Does it mean so much to you?”

“Aye,” he answered. “I would have you show them your courage, Claudia. You have nothing to be ashamed of, and no reason to hide. On the other hand, I can understand the reasons you have to fear and dislike them, and why you would wish to avoid their company. Yet they are my family and will soon be yours. Can
you
forgive and forget, as you would have them do the same?”

She bit her lower lip, then her mouth turned to a sulky
pout. “There are times when I wish you were not so good at reading my thoughts.”

“You have a talent for that yourself, my lady.” His fingertip traced the outline of her mouth. “Will you help plan the festivities as well?”

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