Andrew was a large man with a great deal of strength. He began to attack his opponent with vigor, with his sword contacting the other man’s weapon so forcefully that sparks flew into the darkness. His uppercuts were double-handed, and his thrusts were well-controlled. The soldier was merely defending himself at this point as Andrew worked him down the hall.
The fighting was furious now. Andrew began grunting as he made contact. The soldier was breathing heavily, and was trying not to stumble as he backed up. Sully had to concentrate on his own match and not get caught up in watching Andrew’s, for it was an awesome spectacle to witness. Sully had never seen anyone fight with such unleashed fury. He wondered how the soldier had lasted this long.
He was so caught up in Andrew’s performance that when his opponent made a stupid mistake, Sully almost missed taking advantage of it. But as quick as a bolt of lightning, Sully upper-sliced right into the man’s midsection, breaching the mail and plowing into the man’s innards. In a second, he was on the floor dying.
Andrew, by this time, had his enemy on the ground against the wall; the soldier’s sword wasn’t even up anymore. Andrew hesitated a split second before killing the man; he didn’t like cold-blooded killing, but he knew if the man was set free, he’d race back to the king and Andrew would be on the run, which would mean having to leave Josephine. He wasn’t about to do that. Therefore, he shoved the man’s head back and drove his sword right through the soldier’s throat. Sully was standing by him, watching the soldier twitch in the last throes of death.
As quickly as it began, the fight was over. But Sully and Andrew knew that it wasn’t really over. A battle like that made a good deal of noise and they were both fairly certain that most of the keep had been alerted to it. That made the situation rather tricky.
“We must get them out of the castle,” Sully said quietly. “We cannot leave them here.”
Andrew nodded. “I’ll take two,” he said. “Lead the way, my lord.”
Sully grinned at the use of his now proper title. “Out behind the stables,” he said. “But should you leave Josephine unprotected like this?”
Andrew heaved a soldier across his shoulder. “I believe it is safe for now,” he said. “The king will not send out more soldiers, at least for the time being. He’s probably assuming his men had to fight de Carron guards and I would wager to say he’ll not send anyone to check on the situation for a time. I will be back by then.”
It made sense. Sully assumed the burden of the soldier he killed. “I was hoping the king would have left Josephine alone,” he said. “I am disappointed that I was wrong. These men we fought – they were simply following orders.”
Andrew was somewhat solemn. “I did not want to kill them, but if I had not…”
Sully cut him off. “You would be dead now,” he finished, then looked at him. “Andrew, you need not explain your actions to me. I know you are a man of character and you have yet to give me a reason to question you.”
Andrew nodded quickly, grateful for Sully’s words. He seldom cared what anyone thought of him, but he was coming to respect Sully. He didn’t want the man to think ill of him. Gathering the bodies, they began to descend the stairs with their burdens.
“Why do I have the strange notion that I will not sleep for the duration of the royal visit?” Andrew muttered as he grunted under the weight.
Sully grinned. “Oddly enough, I have that same feeling.”
The king’s men were buried in the soft dirt behind the stables that night, covered up in the dark of night, never to be spoken of again.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Josephine slept late the next morning, waking a little before midday. It was unusual for her to sleep past sunrise, but she was desperately tired and needed the rest.
Ola had the tub filled with steaming rose-scented water. The little servant moving about the chamber had finally awoken her. Josephine laid on her side, watching her maid as she brought linens and soap, and laid out a rich, deep-blue surcote with white panels in the skirt.
The little maid seemed to be in more of a hurry than usual, running back and forth like a scampering mouse. When she finally ceased, she faced her mistress expectantly.
“My lady, the king demands an audience as soon as you are ready,” she said hurriedly. “Will you not rise now?”
Josephine sat straight up. “Why did you not awaken me sooner?” she demanded, throwing off the bed covers and yanking her night tunic over her head. “How long ago did he ask for me?”
“Not long, my lady. But Sir Andrew told me to let you sleep.”
Josephine’s agitated movements slowed and she peered at the woman. “He did?”
“Aye, my lady.”
Josephine wasn’t sure what to say to that; had he assumed too much? Or was he just being kind? But she couldn’t think too much about it because the king was waiting to conduct his business with her. She was eager to discover, finally, why the man had really come to Torridon. She had to hurry.
The bath was brief but invigorating. Ola scrubbed quickly and dried her so roughly that Josephine was certain the woman had removed skin. But there was a sense of urgency in the air and the little maid could feel it. Very shortly, Josephine was clad in the blue gown with soft slippers on her feet, and her hair was pulled to the nape of her neck and gathered in a gold net as fine as a spider web. Her neck glittered with a gold and sapphire necklace her father had given her.
When she felt presentable enough to face her king, Josephine exited the room swiftly and headed for the great hall. It was nearly noon, and she assumed everyone would be gathered there.
As she rushed, her stomach was twisting with anxiety. Before the day was through, she would know her fate and the thought of that knowledge scared her. It was the not knowing that was the worst. Once she reached the outskirts of the great hall, she took a deep breath for courage and said a quick prayer. God help her with what was about to happen. Truth be told, she was a little terrified.
The hall was crowded with people eating a meal of bread, cheese, and cold meats at midday. Donald Muir sat with the king on the dais, deep in conversation, and Josephine was almost surprised to see him. She had nearly forgotten he was still at Torridon, keeping to his room as he was because of his swollen face. Nicholas de Londres, the king’s nephew, sat on the other side of his uncle, and his eyes immediately riveted to Josephine as she entered the hall.
She had not seen him at the feast last night, for he had been in charge of overseeing the king’s caravan, but now that she could see him better in the light, she noted he was a very handsome young man. He was Donald’s age, perhaps having seen a little more than twenty summers, with a beautiful head of red-gold hair. He had big, blue eyes, slightly droopy, but very comely. He smiled as she approached and it was a handsome smile.
But conspicuously absent were Justine, Sully, and Andrew. Josephine was hoping to find them in the great hall and was rather disappointed to realize they were not present. She couldn’t go look for them because she had already been sighted by Nicholas, so it would not do for her to suddenly turn around and run off. Nay, she would have to face the king now. She’d come this far.
Reaching the head table, she bowed deeply to the king. He immediately pulled away from Donald and cast appreciative eyes on the vision in front of him.
“Ah, Lady Josephine,” he said. “It is, indeed, a pleasure to see you again. Will you join me for the meal?”
She smiled. “Your majesty is very kind. Thank you.”
The king shoved his nephew down a seat to make room for Josephine. She accepted the chair graciously, informing a nearby steward to bring in the meal and to send for Sully and Andrew. As the man scurried off to do her bidding, she looked around the table.
Nicholas was smiling pleasantly at her and she smiled in return. All the while, however, she was keeping an eye out for Sully and Andrew. She spied Burl and Severn several feet away and she motioned to them when they looked at her. They came quickly, salutin
g smartly to her and the king.
She leaned close to Burl, whispering, “Where are Sir Andrew and Sir Sully?”
“At the knight’s training field, my lady,” he told her.
She tried not to eye the king but she cast her eyes in his direction, hoping Burl would catch on. “Find them,” she said. “Tell them I want them here, now.”
Her knights obeyed instantly. Feeling somewhat comforted now, she sat against the back of her chair as a servant brought her watered wine. As she took a sip, she could feel the king’s eyes on her. Bracing herself, she forced a smile and turned to him.
“You said we had business to discuss, my lord,” she said politely. “Shall we discuss it now?”
Alexander had been staring at her rather heavily, the slope of her torso and the shape of her face. When she posed the question, he had to pull himself away from thoughts and feelings that were, perhaps, more lustful than they should have been.
“Aye,” he said. “But after we eat. Right now, I can smell the lamb and am famished.”
So much for revealing the mysterious subject. Josephine wasn’t even hungry as the meal was served. Lamb, pigeon in plumb sauce, peas and onions, and pies with fruit were brought out to please the royal appetite. In truth, the smells overwhelmed Josephine and she found that she could eat something as everyone began eating with gusto. As she picked at her food, eating little bites, the conversation around the table grew loud and sometimes gregarious.
The king seemed determined to engage her and Donald in conversation, speaking on various barons, his favorite wine from France, and anything else that appeared to pop into his mind. Nicholas joined in the conversation as well, telling stories about the summer he’d spent in France with a widowed old aunt who had a mustache and liked to gamble.
That brought laughter from both Josephine and Donald, and the conversation lightened. Alexander possessed a decent sense of humor, but even if he hadn’t, they would’ve laughed anyway. He also competed with his nephew for attention. If Nicholas told a story, Alexander had to tell a better one.
Also throughout the course of the meal, Josephine discovered that Nicholas was somewhat of a poet and spoke fondly of his love for it. But Alexander couldn’t compete with him on that level. Although he was extremely fond of the lad, it was clear that he had no tolerance for the poetry and reading the boy had put so much energy into. Apparently, he believed his nephew’s time would be better spent in the warring pursuit.
Once the king was finished scolding his nephew for his scholarly pursuits, he turned his attention to Donald, who was quite advanced in his warfare training. As Donald and the king discussed tactics, Josephine looked over at Nicholas as he picked at his turnips. He looked like his feelings were hurt by the king’s criticism and she felt a twinge of pity for him.
“I’d like to hear your poetry sometime,” she said quietly.
He looked up at her in mild surprise. “Would ye?” he said. “I… I would be honored, my lady.”
She smiled. “What do you like to write about?”
He looked a little embarrassed. “I write about many things,” he said. “Things that inspire me or touch me in some way. It could be a lake, or a bird, or a meadow, or a beautiful lady.”
His voice trailed off and his embarrassment seemed to grow. Josephine fought off a smile at the young man who was evidently a dreamer. “You will have to read your prose to me before you leave,” she said. “I would enjoy it very much.”
Her kind words soothed his embarrassment. “I would truly be honored. Thank ye.”
Andrew and Sully picked that moment to enter the room. Josephine looked to Andrew and, immediately, their eyes locked. He came directly to her. Taking her hand over the table, he kissed it gently and her heart leapt wildly from his touch.
“My lady,” Andrew greeted her fondly, then he glanced down at Nicholas sitting beside her. He growled. “Move, boy.”
Nicholas looked completely surprised, but jumped up and moved to the next chair. He was not about to argue with The Red Fury, especially in territorial matters of a woman. Josephine, however, was mortified. She put out a hand.
“Wait,” she said, looking to Sir Nicholas. “Return to your seat.”
Nicholas was too fearful to obey her. “I am happy to give my seat over to Sir Andrew,” he said. “Truly, it is my pleasure.”
He grabbed his wine and took a healthy drink, looking away and pretending to be interested in other parts of the hall. But Josephine knew it was because he was frightened of Andrew and she turned her scowling face to the mercenary.
“You had no cause to address him in that manner,” she said quietly. “You will apologize to Nicholas.”’
Andrew looked as if he were actually mulling over her demand, but the truth was that he was rather offended. Still, he would not show it, not in front of the king. To show a rift would be inviting a wedge, and he wouldn’t do that. They had to present a united front, in all cases.
Therefore, he did what most normal males would have done when faced with an angry lady – he swallowed his rather large pride and bowed politely to Nicholas.
“Forgive my rotten nature, Sir Nicholas,” he said. There was no mistaking the sarcasm. “I hope I have not damaged you for life.”
Nicholas wasn’t sure what to say in the least. All he could do was shake his head. “Not at all, my lord.”
Andrew smiled thinly at him, returning his attention to Josephine. “Satisfied?”
Josephine fought the urge to smile at him because she knew he wasn’t sorry in the least. He was only doing it to appease her, which was as good a reason as any. “Completely,” she said. “Nicholas, would you allow Andrew to have your seat?”
Nicholas was flabbergasted at the whole situation, but managed to nod. Andrew sat in Nicholas’ vacated chair and immediately demanded wine and meat. Servants tripped over each other in their haste to do his bidding. When he finally had a cup of wine in hand, he turned and smiled at his betrothed.
“You are looking well this day,” he said pleasantly. “Did you sleep well?”
She turned to Andrew, her eyes roving over his handsome features. She realized that she was very glad to see him, as if his presence meant instant comfort, instant safety.
“I did,” she said. “Did you?”
Andrew didn’t know if she was aware he’d spent the night at her door, so he simply nodded. “As well as can be expected.”
His food was placed before him, cleaving any further conversation for the moment. As he was delving into his food, Sully approached with a goblet in hand and squatted between Andrew and Josephine’s chairs.
“Where is my sister?” Josephine asked him. “Did she not come to the hall to eat?”
Sully took a drink. “She is in her chamber,” he said quietly. “She said she wanted to be alone, so I left her there.”
Josephine’s eyebrows drew together. “Why?”
He shook his head. “I do not know.”
“Has she at least been pleasant since… yesterday?”
He took another drink of his wine. “It is difficult to tell.”
“What do you mean?”
“She will not speak to me.”
Josephine sighed deeply. “I am sorry, Sully,” she said. “I am sorry she is being so difficult.”
He shrugged. “She is Justine and that is her nature.”
Josephine didn’t say anything. She suddenly felt very bad for having done this to the man. Forcing him to marry her sister and forcing him to endure whatever Justine dished out. And he had done it just for her.
Damn Justine!
“Excuse me,” she rose abruptly.
Andrew bolted out of his chair and Sully stood quickly. The king, on her right, turned to watch her as she asked his permission to leave. He nodded briefly, and she swept from the hall.
The three men watched her, with Sully and Andrew knowing exactly where she was going and wondering if they should follow.
*
; Josephine was more than angry.
In her opinion, her sister was not only acting in a childish, selfish manner by not coming down from her chamber, but she was also risking provoking the wrath of the king by not showing her face and assuming her role as Mistress of Torridon.
Standing outside of Justine’s door, she didn’t even bother knocking. She stormed into the room, heading directly for the bed as she prepared to throw her sister bodily from it. The bed was mussed, but no Justine. Slightly puzzled, Josephine looked about the room but her sister was nowhere to be found. Not even her maid was present.
Josephine was befuddled as she left her sister’s room; she had even looked under the bed. As she headed for the stairs, preparing to scour the entire keep for her errant sister, she noticed the door to her own chambers slightly ajar. Curious, she poked her head inside.
Justine was sitting at her dressing table, examining the contents of Josephine’s jewelry box. As Josephine entered her room, she saw that Justine was dressed in her silk dress that was the color of a ripe apricot, with the square-necked bodice was embroidered with tiny seed pearls. The full skirt was also embroidered with the seed pearls in the pattern of flowers and bees.
It was one of Josephine’s favorite surcotes and her initial reaction was one of outrage for having her privacy invaded. But the more she looked at her sister sitting quietly, the more she began to see the whole picture. For the first time in her life, Justine wanted to be pretty. That had never happened before. Perhaps, one night in Sully’s arms was all that she needed to spur a side of her that had been kept buried; the side of a woman who wanted to feel beautiful and please a man. For certain, Justine had always ignored that side of her in favor of her black garments and witch’s brews.
But now… something had changed.
Ola and Darcy, Justine’s maid, were fussing over Justine as she sat before the dressing table. They were brushing her hair, arguing on the best way to dress it now that she was a married woman. But the moment Josephine stepped further into the room, they looked at her with big eyes, as if fearful for the anger to come. Josephine strongly protected her privacy against her sister.
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