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Rexanne Becnel (34 page)

BOOK: Rexanne Becnel
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Rylan paused briefly and gave her a bold sweeping stare. “You could not be more wrong, my little dove. I intend to get everything I want. Everything.” Then he turned and walked away.

20

K
ING JOHN’S EXPRESSION EXUDED
both malice and triumph, Rylan thought as he entered the room. Isabel’s gaze was more cautious, but she was not entirely able to suppress her own gloating smile.

By contrast, Bishop Ferendi was rather subdued. Was the old goat ashamed of his part—carrying the private confessions of an innocent girl to the king and queen for their political gain? Rylan scoffed inwardly at the idea, but there was no denying that the bishop looked distinctly uncomfortable.

To Rylan’s relief, Sir Egbert appeared completely composed. Rylan had feared the man would not be able to pull off his part in their scheme, but that worry now seemed unfounded. Only the man’s whitened knuckles and clenched hands revealed any sign of tension.

Rylan kept his own face carefully blank as he approached the waiting group. John sat behind a table on a high-backed chair that had been draped with a dark-colored rug for his comfort. His favorite falcon perched on the left back corner, hooded and quiet. Isabel sat off to the one side, with a hand tapestry frame in her lap. But her interest in stitching was understandably absent. Behind her stood the bishop, looking as if he’d rather be anywhere else.

The room was well lit with two large branches of candles and several torches on the walls, and Rylan could clearly see the unfurled parchment that lay before John. His betrothal contract. He had not expected Egbert to produce it for the king’s perusal. Rylan’s composure must have slipped somewhat at that realization, for John’s smile broadened.

“No doubt you know the purpose of this meeting, Sir Rylan, and since that is the case, I will dispense with the preliminaries. This contract is broken as of this very moment.” So saying, he lifted the parchment and, with a vicious jerk, ripped it apart.

Rylan’s eyes glittered with emotion. How he was going to enjoy undermining John once again. “Destroying the written evidence of my agreement with Sir Egbert cannot negate the vow given between two honorable men.”

“Two honorable men!” the king exclaimed. “It can hardly be honorable to circumvent the will of the king. Were it not for the few loyal vassals I surround myself with, vermin of your ilk would quickly destroy my entire kingdom! But you are foiled this time, Lord Blaecston, for I shall not permit this wedding to take place.” With one movement of his arm he swept the torn contract from the table and let the pieces drift to the bare floor.

“You cannot do that. You can’t stop the wedding,” Rylan countered, forcing his expression to darken.

“So long as I keep your bride from you—and her father,” he added, shooting Sir Egbert an angry look, “I can very well do exactly that. The Lady Marilyn is in my safekeeping until such time as her father and I can agree on a new bridegroom for her. And that will not be very long,” he gloated.

Rylan endeavored to appear thunderstruck. He turned toward Sir Egbert. “But what of our agreement?”

The older man shrugged in apparent resignation. “Your suit is hopeless, Kempe. I would not have my daughter kept this way. Besides, the queen has named a most eligible young man in your stead, and he has already agreed. It remains only for Marilyn to agree.”

“Her opinion is of no moment,” John snapped.

Egbert stood a little straighter as he looked at his king. “No, my lord. On this one point I must remain firm. ’Twas my error not to consult with her from the first. Had I done so, then all of this might have been avoided.” He glanced sharply at Rylan. “She does not wish to wed with you, sir. ’Twas that which caused this matter to come to the king’s attention. I will not make the same mistake twice. She must agree,” he said, returning his gaze to the king. “Only then will I sign the contracts.”

The king started to respond, but Isabel cut him off. “That is completely agreeable to us, my Lord Lawton. You daughter is kindly disposed toward Lord Manning. I foresee no problems on that front.”

“They shall marry at court,” John stated emphatically. “This very week.”

“Agreed—”

“Not agreed.” Rylan broke in on Sir Egbert’s words. He stared at the older man. “You make an enemy of me this day if you do not honor our agreement. And I warn you, Egbert, I will not forget this slight you do me.”

A tense silence ensued as Rylan waited with bated breath for Egbert to broach the most ticklish matter of all.

“My hands are tied, man! What would you have me do?”

In answer, Rylan faced John. “Your gain from this thievery you attempt against me shall be less than nothing should I turn my forces against Sir Egbert and the hapless Manning. For mark my words, if I wage war on them, there shall be no crops for them to reap and therefore no taxes for them to pay the royal treasury. If I must lay siege to every demesne in his farflung holdings, then so be it. But I shall not be thwarted in this manner!”

John appeared taken aback as Rylan’s thunderous words echoed in the chamber. Even Isabel frowned, for she well knew that a countryside embroiled in a private war inevitably yielded little to the royal coffers.

The king glared at Rylan. “Perhaps I would be better served by taking you here and now, and demanding a ransom for your release!”

Rylan laughed contemptuously. “And risk having your barons of Yorkshire turn away from you en masse? I think not.”

“Yorkshire, Yorkshire!” Sir Egbert cried in seeming frustration. “Damnation, Kempe! If you would be a king in your damnable Yorkshire, then so be it!” He turned away from Rylan and advanced toward John, then leaned forward with his two hands on the table. “If he already holds Yorkshire in his power to that extent, then give him the rest of what he wants. Let him wed that other girl instead of mine. Give him the Lady Joanna and Oxwich Castle in exchange for a promise of peace!”

“What are you saying, man? Are you mad!” John abruptly rose from his chair and anxiously paced the floor. “He’ll have no such thing from me.”

“In any event, ’tis not enough,” Rylan threw in. He caught the surprised look on Sir Egbert’s face but ignored it. One thing he knew was that the king would be appeased only if he thought he had Rylan backed into a corner. “One paltry estate is hardly a fair exchange for the vast properties that go with the Lady Marilyn’s hand.”

“But he will not release her to you,” Egbert shouted back. “And I will not allow her to be kept a prisoner here! Either you agree to wed the other girl in trade for my daughter, or I shall do exactly as
you
threatened. I shall wage war upon
you
and all who claim
your
friendship. You will rue the day you set out to cross Egbert Crosley!”

King John stared at Egbert in total confusion, clearly as dismayed by Sir Egbert’s threats of war as he was by Rylan’s. When Isabel stood up and crossed quietly to her husband, Rylan followed her every move. As she went, so did this entire bluff go, he realized. She had the power to sway her indecisive husband in any direction she chose.

“It does us no good to shout,” she began with a warning glance at her husband. “Such critical decisions of state and property should not be made amid threats that we shall all later regret.”

“I will not be the one to regret my threat,” Rylan muttered, staring grimly at Egbert.

“Actually, Lord Blaecston, Sir Egbert’s suggestion is one of considerable merit.” She favored him with a smile even as she squeezed John’s arm to keep him silent. “You are understandably angered at being thwarted. Had your plan succeeded, you would have held title to a veritable kingdom all your own. The promise of such enormous power is seductive indeed. But you are smart enough to see that we cannot allow such an unfriendly lord as you have proven to be to wield such power.” She smiled at the three sullen men and moved back to her chair.

“When you have a chance to cool your temper, I am certain you will understand our position. Furthermore, you will also realize that a war with Sir Egbert does you as much harm as it does him. No one shall benefit and no one shall win. Marilyn will be well wed to another, leaving you nothing to gain. And you will very likely lose the loyalty of some of your own barons should you instigate such a long and protracted private war.”

Rylan stared at Isabel’s perfectly composed features. She was most assuredly a rarity among women, he thought with no little admiration. Smart enough to analyze a situation correctly and cool enough under pressure to make her points with no hesitation or sign of dismay. The king had been exceedingly lucky that the beautiful face he’d fallen in love with had come with such an astute mind.

For a moment he thought of Joanna, and he recognized that she too concealed a sharp—albeit devious—mind within her comely form. But thoughts of Joanna pulled him back to the moment. If he would win her, he must pick his words most carefully.

“You miss one critical point, my lady, and that is the matter of my honor. I fight Egbert not for the monetary gain, but to avenge myself against one who should stand with me on this. We had an agreement but he has taken the coward’s way out!”

“No one calls me a coward!” Egbert started forward angrily. Had not the queen stepped between the men, they would have been forced to grapple in earnest. As it was, Isabel held a hand against each man’s chest and glared furiously at them and then her husband as well.

“That is enough!” she cried in outrage. “It should not fall to me to step between two men in this way! Husband, make them separate!”

John jumped at her furious command and cleared his throat. “Stand back or I shall call the guards,” he barked dutifully. Rylan heard the sulky tone in his voice and knew that John would go along with whatever solution the queen devised.

Egbert stared hard at Rylan as the two men stepped away from one another, but he made no sign that might give away his true thoughts to the royal couple. Rylan was careful to keep a scowl upon his face as he belligerently folded his arms across his wide chest.

“Now then,” Isabel bit out. “There is little room for debate. Marilyn will
not
be wed to you, Lord Blaecston, so accept that fact. A private war between you benefits no one and hurts everyone—”

“I will not take this insult lightly,” Rylan interrupted her.

She fixed an angry stare upon him. “Pray tell me, Sir Rylan. What would it take to soothe your damaged pride in this matter?”

“His head upon a pike.”

“I am not in the mood for your petty anger!” Isabel snapped.

“I say slap him in irons,” John threw in peevishly.

“Keep still, John,” Isabel replied without even glancing his way. “Well, Blaecston? I am waiting.”

Rylan gave her a long, cold look, then sent Egbert a baleful glare. Finally he sighed and pursed his lips. “I will consent to wed the Oxwich girl, but her properties must be unencumbered by taxes for three years.”

“What!” John leaped forward with a howl. “I will never consent—”

“One year,” Isabel responded, ignoring John completely. “One year of no taxes on her properties only. And you will take a solemn vow not to impede upon Sir Egbert or Sir Evan in any way whatsoever. That means no mysteriously burned fields. No fouled waterways.
Nothing
whatsoever. Are you agreed?”

It took all Rylan’s considerable willpower not to break into a huge grin. Just to be on the safe side, he bowed low before the queen, hiding his face in a humble gesture. “I am agreed.”

“Good. I will send for the scribes and we will make the contracts here and now. As we do not linger much longer at Ely, I would have both marriages solemnized as soon as possible.”

“May I see my daughter?” Sir Egbert asked. There was a clear note of relief in his voice.

“Most certainly,” Isabel replied. “What of you, Sir Rylan? Would you speak to your bride as soon as the contracts are signed? Or shall I relate the details of our agreement to our ward?”

Throughout the critical minutes of their discussion, Rylan had always felt sure and in control of the situation. He’d instructed Egbert to play the beleaguered and affronted father, while he himself would play the angry and humiliated suitor. Their byplay had been emotional and almost violent, and it had worked even better than he’d hoped. But now, faced with the queen’s mild question about informing Joanna of the results, Rylan found himself truly at a loss.

He swept his hair back with one hand, heaved a troubled sigh, then looked frankly at Isabel. “Would you rather she turn her shrewish temper upon you or upon me?”

Isabel laughed at that, and the last of her irritation seemed to disappear. Not so John’s, however.

“I should have sent her back to her priory and bestowed Oxwich upon a more deserving lord,” he bit out, staring resentfully at Isabel. But the queen was not in the least ruffled by his ill temper.

“I shall speak to her shortly, Lord Blaecston, after I see to my husband. I daresay, however, that I shall brighten John’s mood long before you are able to sweeten Joanna’s disposition toward
you.

The afternoon hours stretched into evening and still Joanna waited. Court had abounded with speculation and gossip the whole day through, but even now as the long summer twilight lingered, there was no real news.

The queen had apparently retired an hour ago and was closeted with the king. Bishop Ferendi was purported to be departing for the monastic grange for his seasonal letting of blood. Whether Marilyn was still being held away from her father’s rule, Joanna simply did not know. Neither Sir Egbert nor Evan had been seen in hours, and as for Sir Rylan—

Joanna slowed in her restless pacing and frowned. At this moment she would welcome even
his
presence if he did but bring word of what was going on.

As she thought of him, Joanna’s pacing ceased altogether and with a heavy sigh she stared out into the deepening lavender sky. How confusing everything was, she admitted to herself. How unsettled and upside down all of it was turning out.

All she had wanted was to become a Gilbertine nun. Her goal had only been to return to St. Theresa’s and to resume the quiet existence she’d enjoyed before Rylan Kempe had so rudely ridden into her life. But then she’d managed to embroil herself in Marilyn’s troubles, to the exclusion of her own. One thing had led to another until now the fates of both Marilyn and Evan—as well as the control of all that property—were being determined, and all because she’d meddled in matters not precisely concerned with her. Rylan’s fate also was directly influenced by her manipulation of the innocent Marilyn and the not-so-innocent bishop, for not only might Rylan lose all he’d hoped to gain, he could very well suffer at the king’s hand for attempting to circumvent the royal wishes.

BOOK: Rexanne Becnel
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