The Warrior's Winter Bride

by Denise Lynn

  She arrived at the bottom step in time to say, ‘I am sure Cecilia would disagree.’

  As calmly as possible, she’d made a reference to her father’s breeding bitch. The hunting hound had bit Glenforde twice, drawing blood both times. Obviously, everyone should have taken heed of the dog’s warning.

  Both men turned to stare at her. Richard’s eyelids lowered slightly, his mouth lifted into that come-hither smile that made her want to act a fool.

  Glenforde’s eyes narrowed in what appeared to Isabella as outrage. He took a step towards her. ‘Thank God, we have been so worried about you.’

  ‘We?’ She made a show of looking around the Great Hall. ‘I don’t see anyone here but you. However did you manage to arrive ahead of my father?’

  He shrugged. ‘The rudder on his ship broke and I wasn’t willing to wait while he made repairs, so I came ahead. Oh, Isabella, I was so anxious to get to you.’

  The sound of her name coming out of his mouth made her want to gag and she doubted his tale of a broken rudder. Her father’s ships were always inspected. A broken rudder didn’t just happen unexpectedly. At her prolonged silence, Glenforde took another step closer. She fisted her hands at her side.

  Thankfully, Conal got to her first and offered his arm. ‘My lady.’

  She tried not to roll her eyes at his overly formal manner and asked softly, ‘How fare the village and the men?’

  ‘The village is intact. One man lost, one injured. Marguerite is seeing to his wounds.’ He handed her off to Richard and took up a position behind them.

  Richard squeezed her fingers lightly before placing them on his forearm. ‘I told you to stay upstairs,’ he said, in a whisper meant only for her.

  She placed her left hand atop of his, making certain to thumb the ring so it spun on her finger, drawing his attention. ‘My place is here.’

  Isabella glanced around at the upturned tables and benches, then asked, ‘What have you done to my hall?’

  When he didn’t answer, Conal replied over her shoulder, ‘Bit of a disagreement.’

  Glenforde raked her from head to toe with his stare. ‘You seem whole.’

  ‘Why would I be otherwise?’

  ‘You were taken captive, kidnapped—how were we to know what treatment you’d endure?’

  She saw no point in dancing around the truth. ‘Please, spare us your lies. Everyone in this chamber knows full well I was taken as bait to lure you back to Dunstan. And now, here you are.’

  ‘Yes, here I am.’ Glenforde eyed her carefully. ‘And there you are, dressed in his colours, toying with his ring upon your finger. Tell me, whore, did he make as good a lover as I did?’

  She felt Richard’s arm tense beneath her touch and wanted to scream at him not to listen to the lies. Instead, she confronted Glenforde directly. ‘Since I have never shared your bed, it is impossible to make a comparison.’

  ‘You can do so after we wed.’

  ‘I am already wed.’

  Surrounded by men who would gladly see him dead, Glenforde drew his sword, announcing, ‘Then it seems I must make you a widow first.’

  Richard wanted to laugh in his face, but first he needed to make sure Isabella was under control. When she opened her mouth to respond to Glenforde’s threat, Richard said, ‘Enough,’ and pushed her against Conal’s chest, ordering, ‘hold her.’

  He ignored what sounded like her hiss of displeasure. But he didn’t care, this was not her fight. Her part in this was over.

  Richard tapped the blade of his sword against his leg. ‘Since we have witnesses, yours and mine, gathered, why don’t you explain to everyone exactly what this is about?’

  He wanted to hear Glenforde’s confession, wanted all to know how vile this man truly was and what harm he had brought to Dunstan, before he ran his sword through Glenforde’s black heart.

  ‘You wronged me first, Dunstan.’

  ‘Did I now? Let’s bring your brother into this conversation, he had a different story that I’m sure he’d like to share.’

  Matthew dragged Father Paul into the Great Hall. Isabella and Hattie gasped in surprise. Richard had been shocked at first, too. But it explained much. He’d been betrayed by the man who had helped him devise this plan to get Glenforde back here, the same man that everyone on the island had trusted since his arrival just under seven years ago—after Agnes had requested a full-time priest take up residence on Dunstan. When she’d offered up the name of a priest she knew and trusted well, Richard had had no reason to think otherwise.

  He pointed his weapon at Father Paul. ‘Go on, tell everyone how I wronged Glenforde first.’

  ‘You didn’t, my lord.’ The man had the decency to hang his head. ‘You didn’t know she was in love with another until it was too late.’

  ‘And who helped Agnes remain in touch with her lover?’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘Who saw to it that they were able to share personal, intimate moments alone while I was at sea?’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘Now, tell us why you would do such a traitorous thing.’

  ‘Because he is my brother.’

  ‘Enough of this.’ Glenforde shoved Father Paul aside. ‘I can speak for myself.’

  Richard smiled. ‘And I would welcome your explanation.’

  ‘How many men have you killed, Dunstan?’ Glenforde jabbed his weapon towards Richard.

  Unwilling to die, or be seriously injured so soon in this fight, Richard stepped back from Glenforde’s reach. ‘Outside of battle, none have died by my hand.’

  ‘You are a ship owner. I doubt if you have been in so many battles that you cannot remember them.’

  Richard shrugged as he and Glenforde circled each other in the centre of the hall. ‘I try not to take the memories of battles off the field.’

  ‘There is one I am sure you didn’t forget. Northallerton.’

  Richard’s stomach churned. Yes, he remembered that battle. It had been his first experience at taking another man’s life. For nearly two hours they’d fought King David’s men hand to hand. Many had fallen that day. ‘That was years ago. Why speak of it now?’

  Glenforde swung his sword and Richard stepped into the blow, blocking the other man’s blade with his own. Their blades slid along the other until the guards met, bringing them nearly nose to nose. ‘Do you remember puking after you severed a man’s head from his body?’

  Richard shoved free. Unfortunately, yes, he did remember that, too. He’d taken his share of lives that day, but that one had been the first.

  ‘No!’ Father Paul’s shout rang in the Great Hall. ‘He killed Alan?’

  ‘Yes.’ Glenforde’s lip curled in a snarl. ‘Our brother died because of this man’s lust for blood.’

  ‘Lust for blood? It was a battle. All there followed their commander’s orders.’

  Glenforde lunged towards him again. ‘Alan was but twenty.’

  ‘And I was sixteen.’

  ‘His wife had just had a baby and no returning husband.’ Raising his sword over his head, Glenforde brought it down, missing Richard as he spun away. ‘While you came home to marry my betrothed, I was tasked with taking my brother, my dead brother who I watched you kill, home to his wife and child.’

  While that explained Glenforde’s anger, it didn’t justify what he’d done to Agnes and Lisette. ‘So, instead of coming after me, you took your rage out on an innocent woman and child?’

  ‘Innocent?’ Glenforde’s high-pitched shout grated against Richard’s ears.

  The man came at him again, swinging his sword wildly. Thankfully, Richard was quick enough on his feet to keep out of the blade’s way. At the rate Glenforde fought, he would wear himself out quickly. ‘Did you know she was again with child?’

  Surprised by t
hat piece of information, Richard said, ‘It wasn’t mine.’

  ‘Nor was it mine. She took great delight in telling me so, over and over, even after I had taste of what she thought to keep from me.’

  ‘You were surprised that the whore slept with another man? You found that reason enough to rape her and then take a knife to her?’ Richard ducked away from another swing of his opponent’s weapon.

  ‘No. She was already dead by the time I carved her up.’

  No sane man would have reacted so violently. Respond in anger at that sort of news? Yes. Leave her? Yes. Rape and kill her? Never.

  ‘And had that little brat done as I said and shut her mouth she might still be alive. But, no, she kept screaming for you. Had I not stopped her, the entire island would have heard her.’ Glenforde rushed him, aiming the point of his sword at Richard’s neck.

  Richard sidestepped and swung his fist, making contact with Glenforde’s mouth as he came close. ‘She was just a baby.’

  ‘What do you care? She wasn’t even yours.’

  As he expected, Glenforde was now trying to make him angry enough to lose focus. It wouldn’t work.

  ‘Just like that one over there isn’t yours. At least she won’t be once you’re dead.’ Glenforde laughed. ‘I can’t wait to teach her how to be a proper, obedient wife.’

  Richard narrowed his eyes. He’d see Glenforde in hell before he’d allow the man to touch one hair on Isabella’s head. ‘Bold talk for a coward.’

  ‘Coward?’ Glenforde grasped his sword with both hands. ‘I’ll show you a coward.’

  The man came at him, swinging his weapon in a chopping motion like it was a battleaxe. Richard backed away, leading them in an ever-narrowing circle, making sure the sharp swords were nowhere near the onlookers gathered along the walls.

  Glenforde’s blade came close enough that Richard felt the whoosh of air as the weapon barely missed the side of his head. He heard Isabella’s gasp and the distinct sound of flesh meeting flesh. He could only assume Conal had quickly slapped his hand over her mouth.

  When Glenforde screamed in rage at yet again missing his intended target, Richard knew it was time to end this before the man directed his anger towards an innocent bystander. And before he, too, became tired enough to make what could be a fatal mistake.

  He planted his feet and beckoned Glenforde to charge him. ‘Come, it is time to join your beloved Agnes.’

  ‘Wade, no!’ Father Paul rushed forward, trying to stop his brother from walking into what would be his death by putting himself between the two men.

  But Glenforde was moving too fast and was unable to stop his momentum in time. His sword sliced through his brother’s unprotected chest. Father Paul fell to the floor, dead before his fall was completed.

  Without sparing a moment for the brother he’d just killed, Glenforde jerked his weapon free and slashed at Richard.

  He held his ground, deflecting the blows until the muscles of his arms and shoulders burned with the effort.

  Then Glenforde made a mistake. He turned his gaze from Richard, towards Isabella. The moment he took a step in her direction, Richard rammed his blade home.

  Glenforde’s weapon fell from his hand. He stared at Richard and whispered, ‘She was mine.’

  He hung on to the weapon as Glenforde crumpled to the floor, a look of surprise frozen on his face for all eternity.

  With a foot on Glenforde’s chest, Richard pulled his blade free and tossed it across the room. He stood over the dead man. Why did he feel no satisfaction in Glenforde’s death? Why wasn’t he consumed by relief now that he’d doled out his revenge?

  No, it wasn’t relief or satisfaction flooding him. It was guilt.

  Guilt for everything he’d done of late. Glenforde’s last words echoed in his mind. ‘She was mine.’

  Yes, he’d been right. Agnes was his and Richard had no right marrying her. No right keeping her confined to this island once he’d discovered she belonged to another.

  ‘She was mine.’

  Yes, she had been his. And so had Isabella.

  It didn’t matter if in the end Isabella would have wed Glenforde or not, she deserved the choice.

  She been forced into a situation not of her making and he’d been the one who had done the forcing.

  No, it wasn’t relief or satisfaction he felt. It was guilt and shame.

  He had to make this right. The only thing left of this thirst for vengeance was Isabella, an innocent in this entire plot. He had to make things right for her. Otherwise, he’d not be able to live himself.

  ‘Richard.’ A gentle touch, a soft voice floated through the fog swirling about him. Yet he had no wish to deal with Isabella until he could decide how to do right by her. He shrugged off her touch and searched the hall. Finding Conal, he gritted his teeth a moment and then said, ‘Get her out of here.’

  ‘Richard!’

  He heard her scream as Conal took her to the stairs.

  ‘Richard, please, I love you.’

  He heard her declaration as he slammed his chamber door behind him.

  Love. What did she know of love? Nothing. He’d done well in teaching her lust, and desire, but nothing of love.

  How could he when he didn’t believe in love?

  But Isabella did. He knew that and suddenly that fact made all the difference in the world to him. She deserved the chance to find this love she so craved.

  Her connections were mighty. She was the granddaughter of a king. Surely Rome would grant her a divorce and permit her to marry someone else.

  Richard’s chest tightened at that thought. He shook off the regret teasing him. This was the right thing to do. The only fair thing he could do. Some day, Isabella would see that.

  * * *

  Isabella sat on the edge of her bed and waited, just as she had for nearly the entire night. And still he didn’t come.

  What had she done to anger him so?

  She knew that at first he’d most likely been busy clearing the bodies from the hall, and rounding up Glenforde’s remaining men, but surely that wouldn’t have taken all night?

  A knock on the door made her jump. ‘Enter.’

  Conal and Matthew entered the chamber. Neither looked as if they’d found any rest during the night. But they were more than simply tired, they looked...sad...distraught.

  ‘Lady Isabella.’ Conal stepped forward. ‘Your father’s ships will dock within the hour. You need to meet him at the quay.’

  She rose. She’d looked forward to this for so long, yet now that the moment had arrived, she longed for more time. ‘Richard will meet me there?’

  ‘No. I will escort you.’ Matthew twisted his hat in his hands. ‘You need pack what things you want to take with you back to Warehaven. Two of the chamber maids will be along to help.’

  Her heart seemed to freeze in her chest. ‘The only thing I wish to take is Richard.’

  ‘Isabella, that isn’t going to happen.’ Conal sighed. ‘He wants you gone.’

  ‘And he couldn’t be bothered to tell me that himself?’ She tried to fight through the pain lashing her. ‘Where is he?’

  The two men looked at each other. Finally, Conal stepped aside. ‘His chamber.’

  As she marched by them, Matthew touched her shoulder. ‘He will not change his mind.’

  She stared up at the man, noticing that her vision was clouded. She hoped it was from rage and not tears. ‘I deserve an explanation.’

  The two maids met her halfway down the stairs. Isabella paused long enough to say, ‘Use the smaller chest to store my clothes and the fabric. That is all.’

  She wanted nothing else. Just the things she’d worn here and the fabric he’d taken from his warehouse inventory specifically for her. She would use it for the baby.


  Everyone in the Great Hall paused to look at her as she came off the last step. She turned to them to ask, ‘You have nothing else to do?’

  Thankfully, they all hung their heads and went about their tasks.

  Isabella didn’t pause to knock on his chamber door, she shoved the door open and crossed the room to the rear door, shoving through that one, too.

  He rose from the bed as she entered. Only to be knocked back down on to the mattress when she shoved against his chest, shouting, ‘What is wrong with you?’

  ‘I didn’t think you would take leaving here this hard. You are going home, isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?’

  His sarcastic tone did not fit the anger shimmering from his eyes. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but the two emotions did not fit. Not with Richard. He could be sarcastic and teasing, or angry. He was never both. ‘No. And you know better. We were supposed to start working on a child when all of this was over.’

  ‘I changed my mind.’

  ‘You what?’

  He shrugged. ‘I changed my mind.’

  She put her fisted hands on her hips. ‘Richard, what is going on here?’

  ‘Nothing more than what I’d planned all along. You did your part. You lured Glenforde here. He is now dead. So you are free to leave.’

  ‘And if I wish not to leave?’

  ‘I will have Matthew place you aboard your father’s ship. You are not staying here.’

  She fell to her knees before him. ‘What did I do?’

  He reached towards her cheek, then drew his hand back. ‘You did nothing, Isabella.’

  Her name didn’t roll off his tongue, he didn’t drag it out, as if cherishing each letter. ‘Richard, I love you.’

  ‘You don’t know what love is.’ He rose, pulling her up with him. ‘But you will some day.’

  She threw herself against his chest. ‘Don’t make me go.’

  He encircled her in his arms and for a moment held her close. Then, holding her at arm’s length, he asked, ‘Don’t you see? This is the only thing I can give to you. The chance to find this love you so desire. Isabella, you will never find it here, you know that.’