The Conquered Brides Collection

by Renee Rose, Ashe Barker, Sue Lyndon, Korey Mae Johnson

“But, I…”

  The duke steps right up to my would-be husband and prises the man’s fingers from my arm, one by one. In truth, he meets with little resistance now. When I am free he shoves me behind him, a position I do not mind in the least at this moment. He crosses his arms in front of his chest and regards the waiting soldiers, as though daring any of them to defy him in this. I cannot see his face, but the duke seems calm, confident, though none of his personal guard are within easy reach of us. It seems that his grace’s personal authority will carry the day. Oh, God, I do so hope.

  “Do I have to make it even plainer for you? You cannot have this lady. The widow is mine.”

  Chapter Two

  I have no notion, not the faintest idea, what possessed me to claim the widowed Lady de Chapelle as my bride. I suspect my household will be equally perplexed since I have made it my business to avoid any contact with the house de Chapelle since the count’s disastrous and incompetent warmongering cost the life of my elder brother some twenty years ago now. Frederick was a young knight in the count’s service, there to learn the art of warfare though not from one with any serious aptitude for it as far as I am able to discern. I was but a boy when my brother was killed, ambushed by brigands whilst patrolling his lord’s estates. Frederick and his two comrades were hopelessly outnumbered that day despite their being men at arms a-plenty drinking ale and enjoying the comforts of their barracks at Chapelle’s keep. The count was warned repeatedly that the marauding villains hiding out in the forests surrounding his castle were well-armed and dangerous, but he knew better. He judged them to be nothing more than a rabble of disorganised peasants and refused to dignify the threat they posed by increasing the number of guards patrolling his lands.

  They were not the unruly, ineffective mob the count mistook them for. The outlaws were armed, trained, and deadly, as any commander with a grain of sense would have known. Chapelle was an arrogant fool, oblivious to the safety of those who served him, or relied upon him for their protection. He was altogether too fond of ale and wenching too if his reputation was at all deserved, and I have no reason to doubt it. Until now. His widow claims he was kind to her. I suspect the kindest thing he did was to die on her.

  Which brings me back to my current situation. I have no need for a wife, nor any desire for one. My needs are met well enough without such recourse. But it seems I am committed now.

  Maybe it was the lady’s beautiful grey eyes. Or perhaps her hair the exact shade of finest ermine, which has been shaken loose from her coif and now falls in shining waves, framing that heart-shaped face and begging for the twist of a man’s fist in those flaxen tresses. Not a classical beauty but without doubt there is something extremely arresting about Lady Natalia. Alluring even.

  And there I have it. I want to fuck her. I want to fuck her very much indeed, and it seems marriage will be the price. So be it.

  I turn to regard the slight figure, now silent behind me. Her sobs have subsided, but I doubt I have seen the last of her tears. “Remain close, madam. I have other matters to attend to here before I can see you to safety in my tent.” I do not wait for the lady’s agreement before striding off in the direction of the castle stables. Her obedience is a foregone conclusion.

  She has no choice.

  The soft tread at my heels confirms that Lady Natalia is obeying my commands. A good start, though I know it will not always be so. Part of me looks forward to her first defiance of my dictates, her first chastisement at my hands. For that is what drew me to her. That flicker of submission in her lovely, frightened eyes as she cowered at my feet, the healthy trepidation even as she began to trust my intentions. A lady should fear her husband, just a little. Just enough.

  I am aware of it the moment she breaks into a trot to keep pace with me. I do not slow down. In the stable block I confer briefly with my master of horse who is organising the removal of the bloodstock here. Fine animals all, and they are to be mine in recompense for my support to the imperial cause these recent weeks. In truth, I would have acted without reward. The menace posed by the marauding knights of Hohenzollern needed to be stopped; the people of the Free Cities are entitled to expect protection and they will have it. They do have it now.

  The lovely creature hovering at my elbow does not, unless I decide to offer it to her. Which of course I will. She is to be my duchess.

  “Sir? My lord?” Lady Natalia’s voice trembles, but only slightly. Even so, I realise I must do what I may to reassure her.

  “Yes?” My response was curt, more so than I intended. Natalia flinches, and I curse myself. I must do better if I am to gain her willing response.

  The lady continues; I cannot fault her courage, nor her tenacity. “Earlier, in the bailey, you mentioned that you recalled my husband. My late husband…”

  “Yes.” I curse my less than guarded reaction on first hearing the name of Chapelle. I would not have this matter come between us now, though it is inevitable that Lady Natalia should become acquainted with my family history. It is widely enough known that I am a second son, and that I inherited following the death of my brother. The older members of my household staff will recall the circumstances, and make the connection. Better that I deal with it now, probably.

  Lady Natalia continues. “You met my husband then? I do not recall that he mentioned you to me.”

  “I never met the count de Chapelle. I knew of him though.”

  “You did not like him.”

  “No, I did not.” An understatement if ever I was guilty of making one.

  “May I ask why, my lord?”

  I draw in a long breath. “You may.” I pause, briefly consider gilding the truth somehow to make it less stark. I opt in the end for a more direct approach. “Your husband was responsible for the death of my brother.”

  Lady Natalia gasps and steps back, her lovely eyes widening. Shock perhaps, and maybe fear too. I find I care for neither very much.

  “I… how? I mean, I had no idea…”

  “It was a long time ago, my lady. Twenty years. I doubt you were even born then.”

  “But, what happened?”

  I provide a brief account of Chapelle’s less than stellar performance as a military commander, doing the best I can not to betray my bitterness by my tone or words. I suspect I do not entirely succeed as Lady Natalia’s features have turned from pale to ashen by the time I complete the story.

  “You are still angry.”

  “Of course I am angry. My brother died a senseless death, and your late husband was the cause of it.”

  “Perhaps he did not know. I am sure he would never…”

  “He knew. He was advised of the dangers posed by allowing outlaws to establish a presence on his lands. He just didn’t care as long as his own skin was safe. He sent others out to face the perils while he remained secure at home.”

  The small figure before me stiffens and draws herself up to her full height. Her forehead still barely reaches my shoulder. “You are seeking vengeance then?”

  “I am what?”

  “You will have your vengeance on my husband then, all these years later, through me. Is that why you have decided to marry me?”

  God’s precious bones! Where is this coming from? “No, my lady. You can be assured that were I of a mind to seek vengeance upon your incompetent, self-serving fool of a husband I would have directed my attention at him, or at those more directly connected to him. Not at a child bride he merely took to lighten his declining years.”

  “Then why…?”

  “Drop it, my lady. Be assured that I bear you no ill will for your late husband’s crimes against my family. He is gone now, and good riddance. Let us not speak of him, nor be reminded of him further. Now, if you will allow me a few minutes, I am almost done here.”

  I turn from her to complete my inventory of the Hohenzollern horseflesh, relieved to have got this awkward business out of the way.

  A few minutes pass in silence, then Lady Natalia speaks again.


  “I was wondering, if I may request, sir…?” She pauses, hesitant. I turn from my perusal of a particularly fine filly to bestow on her my undivided attention. I even manage a smile since I feel I owe her that much. It is enough, and she continues.

  “Sir, what will become of the children?”

  I frown in confusion. This I did not anticipate. “You have children, madam?” It was to be expected, I suppose. Two marriages, after all.

  She is quick to dismiss that notion. “No, sir, no I do not. I am referring to the children of the castle. They have sought sanctuary in the chapel.”

  “Ah, I see. They will be taken to Vienna I expect, with the other prisoners.”

  “Prisoners! But, my lord, they are only babies…”

  “I phrased that badly, my lady. The imperial forces do not make war on infants. Sanctuary will be respected, but the children will in all likelihood be conveyed to Vienna. There they will be cared for in the court of the holy Roman emperor, until other arrangements can be made.”

  “Arrangements?”

  “They will be fostered, or guardians appointed. I am certain you are aware of this process, my lady.”

  “Yes, but I wanted to know that they will be safe.”

  “They will. As will you, if you obey me and cause me no trouble.” In truth, Lady Natalia does not really strike me as the troublesome kind, but women have surprised me in the past. My late wife offers a prime example. She certainly departed this life with an alacrity I found most startling.

  “Why are you so concerned about the welfare of babes when you have no children of your own at risk here? What is your particular interest?”

  “None, sir. None at all. I was just—wondering. That is all.”

  Is it? I suspect that is not all, nowhere near. But I have pressing work to complete if this castle is to be secured, further unnecessary bloodshed averted, and the wealth of Hohenzollern collected and redistributed with some degree of equity.

  “Follow me. I will see you safe into our encampment outside the walls.”

  Again, I do not wait for my bride’s acquiescence before striding from the stable.

  She follows hard on my heels, clearly anxious not to be left to her own devices once more. This time I moderate my pace. I have made my point.

  I am waylaid several times on my way across the courtyard, settling questions, issuing further commands, clarifying matters. On each occasion Lady Natalia halts beside me and remains silent. I find this encouraging.

  At last we reach the outer gate and she trails through it in my wake. We attract several enquiring glances from the troops who have not yet entered the castle but chose to remain in camp. None of them sees fit to comment on the lady’s presence. Just as well, I am in no mood to issue further reprimands. Though I may make an exception for Lady de Chapelle herself.

  I turn to regard her slender form, now several feet to my rear. “Do not drop behind, my lady. I wish to see you safely installed, then I must attend to my other duties. I do not have all day to dally.”

  “My apologies, sir.” She pulls her cloak more tightly across her chest and breaks into a trot to catch up and remain at my side.

  At the castle gate we are delayed by a throng of our men, all accompanied by females from among the Hohenzollern household, most of whom are in various states of distress. There is much weeping, and a number of our soldiers are experiencing not inconsiderable difficulty in preventing the women’s imminent departure. The ladies are far from happy.

  “You, man, what is this? Why are you congregating here?” I tap the soldier closest to me on his shoulder, a gesture that causes him to temporarily divert his concentration from the struggling servant girl in his clutches. She succeeds in landing a well-aimed or perhaps merely lucky foot in his private parts, and he crumples with an anguished groan. Moments later the girl is haring across the bailey.

  I’m not sure my response is entirely one of remorse as I bend to aid the man to his feet. He appears less than grateful for my assistance.

  “What did you do that for? I ‘ad ‘er. Fine wench too. Shit! Where did she go?”

  “Over there, I think.” I indicate a direction opposite to that taken by the fleeing girl. “Now, answer me, man. What’s this crowd doing here? Don’t you have better things to attend to?”

  “It’s the priest, my lord. He’s doing the marrying at the gates.”

  “I beg your pardon.”

  “Gerhard of Bavaria said all the women who were taken from ‘ere ‘ad to go as wives, so the priest is doing the weddings at the castle gate. There’s a queue, my lord. An’ I was in it. If you’ll excuse me, my lord, I think I’ll be needing to round up my bride again.”

  He’s not wrong, so I nod and step back to allow the eager bridegroom passage. He mumbles his thanks as he makes his unsteady way across the courtyard. I silently wish his reluctant bride luck as I ponder the dilemma now facing me. I have no wish to create my new duchess in a botched ceremony on a battlefield, but at the same time it would undermine Gerhard’s command if I were to ignore his dictate.

  I reach for Lady Natalia’s hand and edge the pair of us around the milling crowd in the direction of the drawbridge. As we draw close I can see the priest standing on a mounting block, speaking the necessary words over couple after couple as they pass before him. The ceremonies are brief to the point of almost non-existent, reinforcing my concern that such unions may not be universally recognised. Still, it’s the best that can be achieved in the circumstances, and my responsibility is to uphold the practice.

  I tug Natalia along until we are standing before the priest. He barely looks at us as he mumbles the words, and makes no attempt at all to elicit my lady’s consent. This is probably a wise precaution, given her present aversion to the matrimonial state, but in the longer term will not suffice. I resolve to secure the services of a priest at the earliest opportunity, and one not acting under duress. Mercifully my bride makes offers no argument as the words are recited, and I hustle her away as soon as the ceremony is concluded.

  My tent is at the far end of our encampment, close to that of Gerhard and the other commanders. It offers few luxuries, but will afford a degree of privacy. And safety.

  As we draw near I spot the hulking figure of Karl, who serves me in an undefined capacity. A member of my personal guard, his duties span those of companion, bodyguard, manservant, and squire. Born of peasant stock, he would not ordinarily hold such a position in my household, but as Karl’s services, and his friendship, have become invaluable to me, I allow his status to remain ambiguous. He seems similarly content with his situation.

  Karl is crouching before the entrance to my battle tent polishing my helmet. I chose not to wear it to enter the castle, a deliberate display of confidence to reaffirm to the conquered people of Hohenzollern that further resistance will be futile. He straightens, regarding my diminutive companion with a mixture of suspicion and sympathy.

  Karl is a hardened warrior. He carried me from a battlefield in Lombardy some ten years ago now. He was just a common foot soldier then, but I rewarded his aid with a position in my personal guard. Since that day he has been at my side during more battles than I care to recall, and is no stranger to the brutality of warfare. He is a ruthless killer when such is required, a fact I have had cause to appreciate on a number of occasions. But he is not cruel, not a vindictive man, and always merciful in victory. He looks from me to my lady’s battered face, one eyebrow arched in disapproval.

  “Not my doing.” I have no notion why I feel inclined to account for myself to Karl, but it is a habit I find difficult to shed. I growl my denial as I gesture Lady Natalia to precede me into the tent.

  “Right then.” Karl follows us inside, hovering by the drawn back entrance flap. “So, are we taking prisoners now, my lord?”

  There are occasions when I reconsider the wisdom of permitting Karl such free rein with his opinions, though on balance our arrangement works. I opt for making introductions.

 
“Karl, may I introduce Lady Natalia de Chapelle, widow of the late count de Chapelle, and the next duchess of Richtenholst.”

  That expressive eyebrow lifts again, but Karl refrains from making any comment. He will no doubt be stunned at the mention of a new duchess, and he cannot but be aware of the circumstances of my brother’s death. Instead he turns to Natalia and bows from the waist. “My lady, it is a great pleasure to make your acquaintance. Would you like to sit down, perhaps? Could we offer you a drink, or some sustenance maybe?”

  My bride-to-be opens her mouth to respond but I forestall her. “Natalia, this is Karl, my—servant. He will take care of you while I am away.”

  She makes no response, merely chews on her lower lip. I accept that most people find Karl an intimidating individual at the first encounter, further reassurance will not go amiss. “You will be perfectly safe with him, my lady.”

  I hope she is convinced, though her countenance suggests otherwise. Still, I have pressing business to see to back in the Hohenzollern keep. Karl’s actions will doubtless speak louder than any words of mine right now, and I have every confidence in him. I turn my attention to my manservant. “Thank you, Karl. I know I can rely on you to see to my lady’s comfort. I have matters still requiring my urgent attention within the castle, and I must consult with Gerhard too regarding the transport of prisoners.”

  I regard the small, cloaked woman standing in the middle of my tent and I cannot help but observe her nervous hand-wringing. “I must leave you for a while, my lady, but Karl will see to your needs.”

  “Yes, of course, I… Wait, my lord. You said you would be meeting with Gerhard. Is he the commander of the imperial forces? The man who came to Hohenzollern all those months ago?”

  “He is. Do you know him, my lady?”

  She shakes her head. “No, but I was at court he came to Hohenzollern and, and—threatened to return. Then I saw him talking to my cousin earlier today. I was watching from the battlements when Susanna surrendered the castle.”

  “I see.” In truth, I do not entirely understand this interest in the fortunes of the princess whose dereliction of her duty brought the castle to ruin. I have the impression Lady Natalia has more to say however. I wait.