by Eva Shepherd
‘I don’t think Copsi needs you alive. He only needs your body. Now, get back into the centre of my men,’ he demanded. ‘Please,’ he added as an afterthought.
‘No!’ She would show this man she was not afraid of him.
Braedan gripped the front of his saddle and finally turned to look at her. A thrill ran down her spine as his dark eyes glared at her.
‘Why do you find it so difficult to obey orders?’ he ground out.
‘I’m not one of your men. You are not in any position to give me orders. In fact I would say that it was the other way around, wouldn’t you?’
Braedan’s lips twisted into a sneer, emphasising the scar that slashed through them. ‘I take orders from your father only.’
‘Well, I take orders from no one,’ she replied.
He stared at her for a long moment. She gripped her reins tightly to stop her fingers from visibly shaking.
‘Is that so?’ he asked eventually, with something akin to laughter lacing his words.
She nodded defiantly.
‘Men—fall in,’ he barked, without taking his gaze from her.
As one, his band of men rode past them to form a protective barrier once more.
If she’d been standing she’d have stamped her foot. As it was she settled for muttering curses underneath her breath. She’d allow him this victory, but she was determined to make it his last over her.
‘I didn’t know a lady knew such words,’ said Braedan, the corner of his mouth tilting slightly in what might have been the first smile she’d seen from him.
She was surprised he didn’t immediately push his way to the front, to take point again. But at least she had someone to talk to now that he was cocooned within the group. She’d settle for company even if it meant spending time with the most frustrating man she’d ever met.
‘I have brothers,’ she explained.
‘Yes, I’ve met them. I’m surprised they would swear in front of you.’
Of course he’d met them. He’d grown up as one of her father’s many trainee knights. She hadn’t noticed him then. Her days had been spent preparing for her own adulthood, when she would marry and form a good alliance for her family.
It was only later, after the fall of his family’s good name, that Braedan had arrived back at her father’s castle. She’d already left to marry Lord Swein. That had been eight years ago.
‘They’d have been whipped if my father had known about it,’ she confessed. ‘But knowing the words has come in useful over the years.’
He nodded thoughtfully.
They rode in silence for a few moments. Braedan seemed intent on the countryside once more and Ellena took the time to study him. Two scars ran across his face. A long silvery one stretched from beneath his left eye to cut through his short dark blond beard. She couldn’t see his right side, but she knew that a thicker scar ran from his ear to his jaw.
Ellena’s newest maid was frightened of his face, saying the damage made him look inhuman. Ellena didn’t understand that sentiment. To her the scars spoke of a hard life, but also a fascinating one. One very different from her own.
‘Are my scars interesting to you, my lady?’ he asked, breaking the silence that stretched between them.
Heat flooded her face. He’d seemed to be concentrating so intently on their surroundings that she hadn’t realised he was aware she was looking at him. She turned and focused attentively on the tree line far away in the distance, hoping she was hiding enough of her face to cover her blushes.
‘You’ve had a few lucky misses,’ she commented, when she could bear the silence no longer.
‘It is not luck, my lady. It’s the amount of time I’ve spent training that has saved my life on several occasions.’
She turned back to look at him. ‘If you were that good surely you could have prevented more than one person from slashing your face?’
This time his mouth erupted into a full smile and her stomach whooshed in response. She pressed her hand over the sensation. No man had ever caused that reaction—certainly not Lord Swein, nor any man since his death. She shuddered. She did not want that response to any man, let alone her father’s guard dog.
‘Perhaps you can give me some pointers, Lady Swein, being as your face is free from any blemish?’
He turned to look at her and her eyes got caught in his dark brown gaze.
‘I am not so foolish as to fight at all,’ she said, her tart words coming out far softer than she’d intended.
‘Then you are the lucky one,’ he said.
She nodded slowly and the sounds of the others around them faded away, leaving only awareness of the man riding next to her. Her heart rate increased and she pulled her gaze away with effort.
‘When will we stop for something to eat?’ she asked, her stomach growling again.
‘Soon,’ he said. ‘After the next hill is a good spot.’
She tried not to groan at the thought of traipsing up another steep incline before she could have some food.
She was determined not to appear weaker than the men who surrounded her, but some sound must have escaped her lips because he asked, ‘Are you tired, my lady?’
‘No.’
He raised an eyebrow.
‘A little,’ she confessed.
Absolutely everything ached—even her little fingers. She wasn’t used to riding for long periods, but she was damned if she was going to tell him that.
She took her hand off her reins and used it to wipe the sweat from her forehead. Although they were entering the cooling season the sun was still warm, and she was beginning to regret the thick cloak she’d put on when they’d left early that morning.
‘Would you like to remove your cloak?’ Braedan asked, as if reading her mind.
She glanced across at him, expecting him to look annoyed at this sign of weakness, but instead his eyes were soft. For some reason that frightened her more than any of his steely-eyed frowns had done.
‘Do we have time to stop for that?’ she asked sarcastically.
‘No, but we can remove it as we ride.’
Before she could ask how he’d nudged his horse closer to hers, until their knees were touching. She gasped at the uninvited contact but she didn’t move away.
This close, she could see that his dark brown irises were flecked with yellow.
‘Unclip the brooch.’
‘What?’ she said stupidly.
He pointed to the fastening by her throat.
‘Unclip it and I’ll pull the cloak away from you.’
She swallowed. Here she was, becoming transfixed by the colour of his eyes, and he was trying to help her cool down.
‘I’ll take the reins while you do so,’ he said.
He leaned across and his fingertips brushed the back of her hand. She shivered as a tingle raced down her spine. Awen skittered beneath her and Ellena momentarily lost her balance. Firm fingers gripped her elbow and pushed her upright. She quickly regained her seat and shrugged him off. She could still feel the imprint of his fingers after he’d let go.
‘Thank you,’ she muttered, unable to look at him.
He didn’t comment.
She swiftly undid the clasp and he pulled the material of the cloak away from her. Without slowing down, he folded it and draped it across the back of his own horse.
‘I can—’ she began.
‘Sir,’ said Merrick, Braedan’s second-in-command. ‘There are men up ahead.’
‘Are they armed?’ called Braedan, the grip on his sword tightening.
‘I can’t say for sure.’
The intimacy of the last few minutes disappeared as if it had never been.
‘Our position is best here. If we go further down the valley we will be vulnerable,’ he said, with calm steel running through his voice.
>
As one, the men slowed and stopped.
Aldith, Ellena’s maid, was hustled into the centre of the men as well. The girl had gone very white and Ellena smiled at her.
‘It’s probably nothing,’ she said, but she could tell at once she hadn’t convinced her.
Ellena didn’t blame Aldith for being frightened. Only yesterday Bronwen, Ellena’s previous lady’s maid and closest companion, had been mistaken for Ellena herself and attacked. Her leg had been broken during the ordeal.
Up until that point Ellena hadn’t believed her father’s assertion that there was a threat to her life, but seeing her maid and friend lying crumpled in the dirt of a mud track had broken something inside her, and she’d agreed to return to her father’s estate—for a brief visit only.
She would inform him that she had no intention of remarrying. She would appeal to him for soldiers to be sent to her home to protect her from the men who wanted marriage with her in order to get her small but prosperous lands, some of whom were becoming more forceful in their demands.
Swein wasn’t a grand estate, compared to most but it had the advantage of sitting on a wide, shallow bay, which was ideal for making trade of highly desired goods easy. The rich soil was also fertile, and under her guidance the region had prospered, making it appealing to local landlords keen to add the area to their own estates.
She’d found offers of marriage easy to turn down, but she wouldn’t be able to protect herself if someone decided to invade. Her men weren’t as well-trained as her father’s elite warriors. All she wanted from her father was the offer of more protection.
Next to her, Aldith’s horse skittered and Ellena turned away to hide her irritation. Bronwen hadn’t been able to travel with her because of her broken leg, and now she was saddled with a woman she didn’t know well.
Ellena suspected the only reason Aldith had volunteered to come with her was because she had her eye on Merrick; she’d been sending him longing looks all morning, which Ellena had found amusing to begin with. Other than providing her with that degree of entertainment, she hadn’t been any company for Ellena so far.
From her position at the centre of the group, Ellena could only just make out the advancing men. They appeared to be at least double their own number. Her palms felt slick and she wiped them on her tunic.
Aldith whimpered quietly.
The men finally stopped a few paces away.
‘Sir Leofric,’ said the obvious leader.
‘Lord Copsi,’ was Braedan’s clipped response.
Lord Copsi didn’t look like much of a threat. His wispy beard clung in patches to a florid face and small eyes peered out over a bulbous nose. It was hard to believe that this man was her father’s greatest enemy.
The pair had been at loggerheads over land for as long as Ellena could remember. And one of the Earl of Ogmore’s most grievous insults, in Copsi’s eyes, had been to marry Ellena to Lord Swein.
As part of the marriage agreement Copsi had been forbidden to travel on Swein’s land, meaning he couldn’t easily access the sea trade routes. Even Ellena had thought the decree was a bit harsh, but the more she’d learnt about Copsi in the years after her marriage the more she’d understood her father’s position.
In earlier years Copsi had been privy to the King’s ear, advising him on matters of state. It had only been when Copsi had begun to benefit financially from a couple of suspicious deaths that he’d fallen from favour. The Earl of Ogmore had then married the King’s youngest sister, and had risen in power and influence. A situation Copsi had bitterly resented.
Ogmore’s land abutted Copsi’s in various places, and skirmishes between the two men’s soldiers had broken out several times. Ogmore was holding his position but Copsi wasn’t conceding defeat.
After Swein’s death Copsi had sent a couple of emissaries to Ellena. The hints had been subtle, but it had become clear that he was trying to broker a marriage between her and himself.
Even if she had been tempted to remarry, it would not have been to a man whose two previous wives had died in suspicious circumstances, both of them only a short twelve months after marrying him. Her first marriage had been bad enough, but at least she had survived it. She wouldn’t put herself under another man’s mercy again.
‘What are you doing in this part of the country?’ Copsi asked Braedan.
‘I’m on the Earl of Ogmore’s business,’ growled Braedan. ‘You are straying dangerously close to the border,’ he added.
Copsi ignored Braedan’s comment and let his eyes blatantly roam over the group. When he caught sight of Ellena a faint smile crossed his reptilian lips.
She shuddered and tasted bile in her throat, the thought of that mouth anywhere near her body making her feel sick. For the first time since leaving her castle she was grateful for the solid wall of warriors that surrounded her.
‘Well, it is good to see you again, Sir Braedan. I won’t keep you. I know Ogmore doesn’t like you to keep him waiting.’
Ellena was shocked by Lord Copsi’s patronising tone. Rumour had it that no one spoke to The Beast like that and expected to get away with it.
Braedan’s jaw tightened but he said nothing.
Copsi looked at him for a long moment, and then turned to his men and motioned that they should proceed.
Braedan and his men held their positions until Copsi had disappeared from sight.
‘I’m afraid we won’t be stopping to eat, Lady Swein. I want to make Nerdydd by late afternoon,’ said Braedan.
‘But...that wasn’t that threatening,’ said Ellena, dismayed at the thought of having to continue riding until they reached the first stop on their destination. Copsi might have a bad reputation, but he looked as if a strong breeze would push him over.
‘We have some men in Copsi’s court who are loyal to your father,’ said Braedan as he nudged his horse into action. ‘They have reported that he has become increasingly obsessed by the thought of making you his wife. It would serve the double purpose of disrespecting your father and getting hold of Swein’s land. We had hoped to take you to Ogmore before he was aware of it, but he obviously has spies of his own in your father’s court. He will now be determined to take you before you reach your father’s lands. Today’s meeting was about checking how much manpower we have. We would be foolish to underestimate him. Come—we must ride quickly.’
Ellena’s muscles protested as the horses fell into a steady trot, but she didn’t argue against Braedan’s point despite her growling stomach. The quicker she returned to Ogmore, the quicker she could convince her father that there was no need for her to marry again. She was content at Castle Swein and she had no intention of being married off.
She shuddered, despite the warmth of the day. Her marriage had been the stuff of nightmares. She would not enter into such a union again—especially not with Lord Copsi, a man who reminded her too much of her vile late husband.
Copyright © 2020 by Ella Matthews
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ISBN: 9781488065637
Awakening the Duchess
Copyright © 2020 by Eva Shepherd
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoe
ver without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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