Immortal Unchained
Page 32
"But--" Helen paused and shook her head, trying to gather her rather scattered wits. "But, this cannot be. Lord Holden is an evil, horrid, cruel man. The king cannot expect me to marry him!"
When Templetun remained silent, his head lowered, refusing to meet her eyes, Helen began to realize that she was indeed expected to do just that. Numbness crept over her, softening her horror, and she sank back onto the trestle table bench. She was to marry that horrid, cruel bastard neighbor of hers. Hethe. The Hammer of Holden. The man who burned villeins out of their homes for no purpose. Dear God, what would he do when he was displeased with her?
"There must be a mistake," Aunt Nell announced firmly, drawing Helen from her miserable thoughts. "Surely the king would not be so cruel as to force my niece to marry that man. Perhaps he simply does not understand. We must travel to court and explain things to him. We must--"
"The king is no longer at court," Templetun interrupted solemnly. "He has gone to Chinon to see young Henry and remove some of the members of his court."
Helen and Nell exchanged startled glances at mention of the king's son. It was Helen who murmured uncertainly, "Remove some of his court?"
"Mmmm." Templetun's face was full of displeasure. "Aye. Henry wishes to arrange a marriage between the daughter of the Count of Maurienne and young John. The count seems interested, but wants to be sure John has prospects first. The king offered to invest him with the castles Loudon, Mirebeau and Chinon, but young Henry objects. He will only concede to this if his father allows him to rule either England, Normandy or Anjou in his own right."
"He wants more power." Nell sighed with disgust.
"Aye." Templetun nodded his head solemnly. "It was a mistake for the king to crown his son while he himself yet lives. The boy wants the power that goes with the title."
"But what has that to do with removing some of his court?" Nell asked impatiently.
"Ah, well, the king first thought to take Henry into custody as a warning, but he believes some of young Henry's courtiers are sparking these ideas in him and hopes that after the removal of their influence, his oldest son will settle down." He spoke candidly, then, seeming to realize that he was gossiping, frowned and changed the subject back to the matter at hand. "In any case, seeing him would make no difference. His mind was made up. He feels that you, Lady Helen, and Lord Holden should work your problems out between yourselves, and he wishes the wedding to take place at once. I am to see to it."
Helen lowered her head, her gaze landing on the scroll her aunt still held, proof of King Henry's intent in the matter. It had been written plainly in the message, but for a moment her aunt's words had given her hope. If she could but talk to the king, throw herself on his mercy--
Movement and a rustling just beyond her right shoulder drew Helen from her thoughts. Peering back, she spied Ducky. The maid was wringing her hands, grief and fear both twisting her face as she stared at her mistress. Obviously, the woman had heard enough to know what the message ordered, and she was no less horrified by the missive than her mistress. Straightening, Helen forced a reassuring smile to her face for the servant's benefit, then glanced around with a start when her aunt--the sweetest, gentlest of ladies--suddenly bellowed like the veriest fishmonger.
"Where the Devil did he get an asinine idea like this?"
Helen spared a moment to gape at her aunt briefly, then turned to hear Lord Templetun's answer. He did not appear eager to give it. In fact, he was looking quite reluctant. Guilty. The old man was nearly squirming in his seat with his discomfort. Helen was just starting to get the oddest inkling when her aunt suddenly spoke that suspicion aloud.
"You!"
Templetun froze abruptly, the expression on his face not unlike that of a child startled while raiding the pantry.
"It was you," Helen breathed in horror, unsure whether to ask why or simply go for the man's throat. Before she could do either, Templetun was on his feet and easing around the far end of the table.
"Well, I should be getting on now. The king doesn't like dawdling, and, while it is not a long ride to Holden, the day is waning and travel is so much more uncomfortable at night, is it not?"
The question was rhetorical, Helen was sure. At least, the man didn't appear to intend to stick around for the answer. He was sidling eagerly toward the main door now, moving fast, and talking faster still. She wished he'd choked on the food she had served him.
"I have been informed that Lord Holden is presently on his way home from performing a task for the king," he continued as Helen's aunt began to follow him slowly across the floor, eyes narrowed and furious. "So you will have plenty of time to prepare the celebratory feast. I would guess you should plan it for next week's end. That should be about right. I will send a messenger ahead, of course, so that you can see to any last-minute details." The last was said as he slid through the door.
"The little rat!" Nell said harshly once the keep door had slammed closed behind him.
Helen heartily agreed with the pronouncement, but had other concerns more pressing. "Why would he suggest to the king that Holden and I marry?"
"Why, indeed?" Aunt Nell muttered, then moved back to place her hands on Helen's shoulders to comfort her.
"Surely you are not going to actually marry him?" Ducky gasped, moving forward to join them. "Not the Hammer?"
"I hope not, Ducky. Truly I do." Helen's shoulders slumped miserably.
"But what will you do?"
Frowning, Helen began to twist her hands together as her mind flew over the possibilities. Flee? To where? Beg the king? How? He was away and the wedding was to take place at week's end. Kill the prospective groom? A nice thought, but not very practical, she admitted with a grimace.
"My lady?" Ducky prompted anxiously.
Helen sighed. "I am not sure what I can do," she admitted unhappily.
Ducky's eyes widened in horror. "Can you not refuse him? Just refuse and--"
"And have the king send me off to an abbey? I would rather marry the man and kill him than do that! Who would look after my people if that happened? The Hammer, that is who. Tiernay would be forfeit to him as my dower should I refuse the king's orders."
Ducky bit her lip at that, then leaned closer to whisper. "Maggie knows this and that about herbs. Or Old Joan the Healer. She might know of something we could give him to--"
"Bite your tongue," Helen hissed, covering the maid's mouth with her hand and glancing nervously about the empty great hall. "I never want to hear such a suggestion from you again, Ducky. It could get you strung up in the bailey."
"But then what will you do?" The servant looked miserable as Helen removed the hand covering her mouth. "You cannot marry the Hammer."
Helen sighed again. "It appears I will have to. I cannot refuse a direct order from the king."
"Why not?" Ducky asked frantically. "The Hammer does it often enough. Why, he--"
"That's it!" Aunt Nell, who had stood silent and thoughtful throughout the last few moments, suddenly grabbed Helen's arms excitedly, unconsciously giving her a shake.
"What?" Helen asked with a glimmer of hope.
"You cannot refuse. But the Hammer can. He is too powerful a lord for the king to force him, should he really wish to refuse."
Ducky snorted. "And do you really think for one minute that the Hammer will refuse to marry her? Look! She's as pretty as her mother ever was. And sweet as honeyed mead as well. Then there is her land. Who would refuse a dower like Tiernay?"
Helen sagged slightly, some of her hope leaving her, but Aunt Nell merely straightened her shoulders and spoke staunchly. "Then we shall have to make you and Tiernay less attractive."
Ducky looked doubtful. "Templetun has already seen her for the pretty lass she is. You can't suddenly blacken her teeth and shave her head."
"Nay," Helen agreed slowly, a small smile teasing the corners of her lips as an idea flared in her mind. "But there are other things we can do."
About the Author
LYNSAY SANDS is the nationally bestselling author of the Argeneau/Rogue Hunter vampire series, as well as numerous historicals and anthologies.
She's been writing since grade school and considers herself incredibly lucky to be able to make a career out of it. Her hope is that readers can get away from their everyday stress through her stories, and if there are occasional uncontrollable fits of laughter, that's just a big bonus. Please visit her on the web at www.lynsaysands.net.
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By Lynsay Sands
Immortal Unchained
Immortal Nights
Runaway Vampire
About a Vampire
The Immortal Who Loved Me
Vampire Most Wanted
One Lucky Vampire
Immortal Ever After
The Lady Is a Vamp
Under a Vampire Moon
The Reluctant Vampire
Hungry For You
Born to Bite
The Renegade Hunter
The Immortal Hunter
The Rogue Hunter
Vampire, Interrupted
Vampires Are Forever
The Accidental Vampire
Bite Me if You Can
A Bite to Remember
A Quick Bite
Tall, Dark & Hungry
Single White Vampire
Love Bites
Falling for the Highlander
The Highlander Takes a Bride
To Marry a Scottish Laird
An English Bride in Scotland
The Husband Hunt
The Heiress
The Countess
The Hellion and the Highlander
Taming the Highland Bride
Devil of the Highlands
The Loving Daylights
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
"Bliss" was published as an e-book in July 2010 by HarperCollins Publishers.
Excerpt from Bliss copyright (c) 2001 by Lynsay Sands.
immortal unchained. Copyright (c) 2017 by Lynsay Sands. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins Publishers. For information, address HarperCollins Publishers, 195 Broadway, New York, NY 10007.
EPub Edition APRIL 2017 ISBN: 978-0-06-246885-7
Print Edition ISBN: 978-0-06246884-0
Avon, Avon & logo, and Avon Books & logo are registered trademarks of HarperCollins Publishers in the United States of America and other countries.
HarperCollins is a registered trademark of HarperCollins Publishers in the United States of America and other countries.
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