Josephine was somewhat disgusted to realize that, indeed, she had been right when she’d guessed the purpose of the king’s visit. Marriage! But she sat silently, with no indication of what was going on in her mind.
Failing to draw a reaction from her, Alexander sat forward and put a clamping hand on her arm.
“I see now that you are a most valuable asset,” he said. “I cannot believe that rumors of your beauty had not reached me. The men around here must be blind.”
Josephine sat stone-faced through his monologue, watching him closely. Had he uttered the same words this morning, she would have hung on every word, but not now. Now she knew what her future held and whatever happened, she had the love of The Red Fury. He would be her only husband.
Although the king had been told of the betrothal, it was clear he intended to ignore it. He continued. “You see, my lady, I have been having a great deal of trouble with some of my Highland barons,” he said. “They insist upon running their own clans and the surrounding country as if it were their own private country. They have no respect for their king and they fight my armies with a vengeance. It makes ruling Scotland rather difficult.”
Josephine knew all of this this. King Alexander had been an ineffective ruler because the petty barons refused to acknowledge the rule of his family. But it had been the same for King Alexander’s father. Neither one of them had been successful. Both had had a hard time gaining support, but being related to the man, she had to support him completely whether or not she wanted to.
“I am trying to seek support through other means,” Alexander was saying. “Since I cannot depend on my own countrymen, I am going outside the realm. Which is where you enter my plans.”
Josephine was still sitting ramrod straight in the chair, but her expression was no longer one of casual interest. She was looking at the king with open apprehension. He had said nothing of Dalmellington, or of Torridon, or of Burnton Castle. He was talking about an alliance outside the country and an ominous feeling filled her mind.
“Outside of Scotland?” she repeated. “I do not understand.”
The king smiled benevolently at her. “My lady, you have been pledged to an English earl who has sworn his allegiance to me,” he said. “He brings with him a three thousand man army. You will be a vital link between the throne of Scotland and the throne of England. Are you not pleased?”
So now, it came. This was the reason for the king’s midnight visit to Torridon. Josephine could only stare at him in shock; not only because he had pledged her to an English earl, but because Colin Dalmellington had no part in the purpose of the king’s visit.
“But… my lord, what of the Dalmellingtons?” she stammered. “I believed that you came to solve the feudal war between us.”
“Silly lass,” he chided. “Your feud is of no concern to me. It will eventually burn itself out. What concerns me is the state of my court, and your marriage to the earl will help me greatly.”
Josephine was reeling. He didn’t care for her or for Torridon, only his own bloody throne. Everything she had done, everything she had forced on the others had been based on a wrong assumption. But how could she have been so wrong? Now, because she jumped to a false conclusion, her sister was married to Sully. He was Master of Torridon, and she was betrothed to the mercenary, The Red Fury.
The king was waiting for her gratitude but she was struggling with her composure.
“My lord,” she said as steadily as she could. “You are most generous. However, I am betrothed to Andrew d’Vant. We plan to wed soon.”
That statement brought about the king’s displeasure. “So I have been told,” he said. “Did your father do this?”
“Nay,” she said. “I did. He is a suitable match, and as Mistress of Torridon, it was my right to agree to such a proposal.”
The king was impatient. “I realize that,” he said. “But as Mistress of Torridon, an earl is a much better match than a mercenary leader.”
Josephine was struggling against a righteous panic. She found it was difficult for her not to jump up and scream at him. “But I am no longer the Mistress of Torridon or Lady Ayr, my lord,” Josephine countered. “I gave it all over to my sister as a dowry when she married. She and her husband now rule the fortress. The papers were drawn up by my steward and signed by the priest. It is done.”
The king took another glance at Josephine, seeing her through different eyes. She was not an empty-headed wench, to be sure. She had a head on her shoulders. But he was angered by her seeming defiance of his wishes. Women and intelligence were an annoying combination. He was through humoring her.
“Your betrothal is dissolved,” he said flatly. “You will leave with me the day after tomorrow, and I personally shall deliver you to the Earl of Annan and Blackbank, to whom you shall be wed.”
Josephine knew that name; God help her, she’d heard it before. From Andrew. She had to grip the arms of her chair to keep from falling out of it. The king had not only destroyed her betrothal, but he had pledged her to Andrew’s mortal enemy, his brother, Alphonse. Dear God, was this even possible? She wanted to shriek and curse and faint, all at the same time. But the only sound that escaped her lips was a strangled gasp.
“The… the Earl of Annan and Blackbank?” she repeated, just to make sure she heard correctly.
Alexander nodded. “A very powerful border laird,” he said. “His father was English and his mother Scots. He has been a great supporter of mine and you will be a suitable reward.”
Josephine was having trouble breathing. There had been no mistake. Of all the lords in England and Scotland, Alexander had to pick that one. He has been a great supporter. Josephine had never even heard of the man until Andrew came along and the story she’d heard from him was enough to terrify the hell out of her.
She wanted no part of it.
“What… what is his name?” she asked hesitantly.
“I told you,” the king said with exasperation. “The Earl of Annan and Blackbank. The family name is d’Vant. In fact, is that not the same name as The Red Fury? Andrew d’Vant?”
Josephine knew she was pale. “Aye.”
“Are they related?”
“They are brothers.”
The king was surprised by the coincidence. “Is that so? I was not aware of this,” he said. “Alphonse d’Vant has been allied with me for a few years but he never mentioned his brother, not ever.”
Josephine swallowed, hard. “That is because they do not speak, my lord.”
The king gave a chuckle. “Then this is an awkward situation, taking the betrothed of one brother and giving her to the other.”
“Please, my lord, if I can only…” she began.
The king cut her off, rather rudely. “There will be no discussion, Lady Josephine,” he said. “This is my wish and the subject is closed. Even if you do not marry one brother, you can marry the other. Now, will you join me for a ride?”
Riding with the man was the very last thing she wanted to do. It was a struggle not to tell him that.
“Nay,” she said, deliberately leaving out any form of formal address. “I… I must begin preparations if I am to leave in two days.”
He nodded. “Of course,” he said graciously. “Then you are dismissed.”
Josephine rose swiftly, rushing from the chamber on quaking legs. Spilling out into the hall, she failed to notice Andrew leaning against the wall until she was almost upon him. His smile faded when he saw the expression on her face.
“What did he say?” he demanded.
Her hands flew to her mouth and her eyes filled with tears. Then she rushed to him and threw her arms around his neck and wept pitifully. Andrew’s mind exploded with the possibilities facing them. But instead of pressing her, he swept her into his arms and carried her out of the hall.
Through the bailey they went, ignoring the looks of the men they happened to pass. Into the keep they went and up the dark, stone stairs to the upper floors. Josephine’s chamber was
on the third level and Andrew kicked the door open, sweeping inside where he sent Ola away. As the maid scattered, he sat Josephine gently down on a chair near the hearth and poured her a cup of wine. He forced her to take a couple of sips to calm her crying.
“Now,” he said gently. “Tell me.”
“Oh, Andrew,” she gasped, teary-eyed and sobbing. “I-It is so horrible that I cannot fully comprehend it. He had no intention of betrothing Justine or me to Colin. He only cares about his damnable throne and who he can persuade to support it. He doesn’t give a damn about me, or Justine, or Torridon, and the fact that the House of de Carron has always supported the throne.”
Andrew listened patiently, but so far nothing he heard was earth-shattering. But he was not prepared for what came next.
“He dissolved our betrothal,” she said, her voice squeaking. “He dissolved it because he has promised me to an English earl to form an alliance. The Earl of Annan and Blackbank, Alphonse d’Vant.”
Andrew thought he had not heard correctly. He looked at her as if she were speaking in tongues. But as the information settled, assaulting his mind like an evil curse, he slowly stood up. All he could do was stare at her and try not to explode.
The Earl of Annan and Blackbank.
It wasn’t possible!
“Are you certain of this?” he asked, his voice sounding oddly breathless.
She nodded. “Aye.”
“When?”
“The king says that he will take me with him when he leaves in two days,” she said. She was feeling desperation as well as fear. “I could not believe it myself when I heard it. Did you know that your brother was a great supporter of the king?”
In truth, Andrew had. He’d kept track of his brother all of these years, as it was always wise to know one’s enemy. He’d never lost that sense of tracking his brother like a hound. Faintly, he nodded.
“I’d heard,” he muttered. “I’d heard he was willing to support the king who granted him the most favor. Now, I am to understand you are part of that favor?”
Josephine simply nodded, her eyes still filled with tears. The news was so very devastating for them both. She watched him, waiting for something to happen but, so far, he’d not said anything. He simply looked shocked.
But the truth was that Andrew was more than shocked; every murderous, evil thought he had ever had now took the form of King Alexander. The man was a vile excuse for a man and did not deserve to live. Marry his sweet Josephine to his barbaric brother? Even thinking such a thought was beyond reason.
Lost to his thoughts, Andrew stepped back, stumbling on the corner of a table as he turned around. He seemed to be heading for the door. Josephine rose as well, following him. She feared what he might do once he left her chamber, and she knew she must keep him caged until his temper calmed.
Her suspicion had been correct. He was, indeed, heading for the door. He went for the door but she ran in front of him, throwing herself in front of the panel as he grappled with the latch.
“Where are you going?” she pleaded.
His face was frightening. “Get out of my way.”
“Nay!” she cried. “Andrew, think! You’ll only hasten your own death if you confront the king and then you shall be of no help to me!”
“Remove yourself, Josephine,” he growled.
She threw her arms around his neck, holding on to him like a great anchor. “Please, nay!” she begged, then turned her head towards the cracked door. She knew that Ola was out there, somewhere. The little maid was never far from her mistress. “Ola! Find Sully and Thane! I need them! Run!”
Josephine knew the woman was off and running. Now, she prayed her maid found the men in time. Andrew was far too large for her to hold off for long.
But she held on to him for dear life and he stood still for the moment with his hand on the latch. Fortunately, she was greatly diminishing his resolve with her sweet body pressed next to his because he knew her words held truth. With him dead, she would be at the mercy of the king and his brother. But in his heart of hearts, he knew that he could not allow this to take place.
He intended to make the king pay.
“Please, Andrew,” she was whispering in his ear. “We have just only found each other. I cannot bear the thought of losing you, not now.”
His resolve took another hit. She was begging him and he simply couldn’t resist her. With a heavy sigh, a big arm came up to hold her to him, and he turned his face to her hair, smelling the faint scent of rose.
“You will not lose me,” he said. “But I am The Red Fury and I will fight for what is mine. Have no fear, love; ’tis not I who shall lose this fight.”
She pulled back from him, looking him in the face. “If you kill the king, you’ll bring the wrath of the entire kingdom upon Torridon,” she said. “We shall all lose in that case.”
He met her eyes, digesting her words. It seemed as if an eternity passed while they stared at each other. The longer he looked at her, the more his anger cooled. She seemed to have that effect on him.
“Then I shall speak with him,” he said.
She shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “It would do no good. You know that. It would only anger him.”
Perhaps that was true, but he couldn’t stand by and do nothing. Quickly, he pulled her arms away from his neck, breaking her grip.
“I will have to take that chance,” he said. “And you must let me. This cannot go unanswered, Josephine.”
“Nay!” she cried, terrified. “Please, Andrew, nay!”
Andrew heard her but he simply couldn’t comply. As he threw open the door, Sully and Thane were there, and they pushed roughly into the room. Andrew fell back as Josephine wisely jumped out of the way. Andrew didn’t fight back, but merely tensed up as the two men guided him well away from the door. Josephine ran over to lock it.
“Now,” Sully demanded quietly, “what goes on here?”
Josephine looked like a scared rabbit, harried and somewhat disheveled. She came away from the door, moving to Andrew as he stood back by the hearth. She put a hand on his arm as if she were afraid to let go of him.
“It is all my fault, Sully,” she said, the tears threatening to return. “I must beg your forgiveness and pray that it is in your heart to forgive me.”
He looked puzzled. “What are you talking about?”
“I was wrong,” she said miserably. “The king never planned to marry Justine or me to Colin. I forced you to marry my sister in a fit of panic to save our miserable lives. I was foolish, Sully. Please forgive me for ruining your life.”
Sully wasn’t angry. He had suspected all along that it was not the king’s intention to marry one of the de Carrons to their mortal enemy, but Josephine had seemed convinced of it.
“There is nothing to forgive, Joey.” He smiled gently at her. “I am not sorry that I married your sister. And I know you were doing what you believed to be right.”
Josephine thought he was only being gallant, compounding her misery. She closed her eyes and tears fell like raindrops. Sully felt a good deal of pity for her but he was distracted. He knew without a doubt that was not the reason Andrew had been stampeding through the doorway when he’d arrived. He finally looked to Andrew.
“Where were you going?” he asked. “Why was Josephine begging you not to go?”
Andrew looked up at him with such hatred that Sully felt a chill go down his spine. But he didn’t respond; it seemed as if he was having difficulty voicing the issue. Beside him, Josephine spoke.
“I shall tell you why,” she said. “Because the king has dissolved our betrothal and has pledged me to an English earl, one who is in support of the Scottish king. It is the Earl of Annan and Blackbank.”
Sully didn’t react at first, but Thane went mad. He cursed, yelled, and threatened until Andrew ordered him to sit and be still. He slowly complied, red-faced and pounding his fists. Once Thane was controlled, Andrew let out a heavy sigh and ran his fingers through his hair,
heading to Josephine’s window for a breath of air.
Sully had heard Andrew’s story and knew exactly who the earl was. Clearly, it was a terrible situation for all involved and his heart ached for Josephine, being in the middle of it all. But given the circumstances, cooler heads must prevail.
“Gentlemen,” Sully said quietly. “It would seem that we have a bit of a problem.”
Andrew chuckled bitterly as he stared out across the countryside. He was calmer now, but not much. He couldn’t remember ever having been so distressed, and his best friend, Thane, along with him. His two best friends, in fact. He considered Sully a friend as well. Somehow, with that company, the problem didn’t seem so large. Taking a deep breath, he turned to them.
“I think the best thing that we can do is go about our business and try to think of a way to salvage the situation,” he said sensibly. “But if we fail, if we can think of no way out of this, then I shall take Josephine and flee the country.”
Josephine looked at him in surprise. “Flee?” she repeated. “You… you would leave everything behind?”
Andrew looked at her. “My army, aye,” he said. “But it will go on. Thane will make sure of that. The most important thing is to remove you to safety where we can be married so the king can never come between us.”
Josephine understood. In truth, she felt as if a great weight had been lifted. And she was deeply, deeply touched. Andrew was willing to sacrifice everything he had worked for in his life to save her. She was only beginning to realize the depths and dimensions that their love would develop.
But the men weren’t so convinced. “Where will you go?” Sully asked. “Where can you go where Alexander will not send men after you?”
Before Andrew could answer, Thane found his tongue. “Now, see here,” he said grimly. “You mean to say that you would give up everything you have achieved? Your reputation, the respect of your men, and the money?”
Andrew looked at Josephine. Somehow, when he looked at her, all of those things Thane listed seemed so very unimportant by comparison. “Look at her, Thane,” he said. “Put yourself in my place and ask your questions again. I can no longer deny my love for this woman and I shall do all within my power to keep us together.”
The Red Fury Page 24